Lethally In Love
by ForEverdeen88
Summary: After the Quarter Quell, Katniss must face the hardest time period in her life. Fighting in the revolution, being the symbol of the rebellion, losing loved ones under the hand of the Capitol; she never would have expected to fall in love in the midst of it all. (Please review!)
1. Chapter 1

**Lethally In Love ; by ForEverdeen88 **  
This story begins directly after the arena explosion in Catching Fire, inside of the hovercraft that Katniss had been fished out of the arena with.  
Please review & let me know what you think? :D

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**Chapter 1 ; "You Are The Mockingjay"**  
. . . . . My lips are quivering in dehydration, and my body is aching from head to toe when I wake up. The last thing I remember was an explosion caused by lightning, bigger than I had ever seen before. The dome of the arena had collapsed in the dead of night because of my arrow, revealing the real sky beyond it, and entirely crashing the Capitol's network. I had been too fragile, too weak to even move, when a hovercraft claw came to pick me up. I thought about home, and I thought about the fact that I would probably never wake up again after that. I thought about Prim, and Gale. I thought about my mother, and then I thought about Peeta. He was in the arena somewhere, and I was leaving him behind. Who knew if he was even still alive? Halfway to the hovercraft, I blacked out, and don't remember a thing from then on.

The place I'm laying is nothing but a mat on the floor of the hovercraft. There's an IV in my arm, and an oxygen mask suctioned to my nose and mouth. My mind is racing, and I know I'm not getting enough oxygen even with the mask, because I'm feeling nauseous and light headed. I hear voices, and I wonder what my fate would be if I was to get up and walk through that door into the control room. I feel as if I'm lucky enough to even be alive right now, but then realize that it isn't lucky at all. I almost _want_ to be dead. The only reason I'd ever want to stay alive after all of this, is if I had my family to protect; or had _Peeta_ to protect. I'm at a loss for wisdom, and decide that I want to take a chance, even if it means I'll be taking my last breath within the next few minutes.

I undo my IV strap and sit up on the mat, ripping the velcro on the oxygen mask and placing all the medical instruments on the floor. I glance around the room, taking in the sights, when I spot Beetee passed out on a mat towards the other side of the room. "Beetee." I say weakly, pushing myself onto my hands and knees so that I can crawl over to his unconscious body. For a moment I'm convinced he isn't breathing, but after a moment of watching his mask, I can see his breath fog up in the plastic. I place my palm on his leg, gently shaking it to awake him; but he won't even react. "Please, I need you." I can't do this on my own... I'm too _afraid_. Beetee would know what the smart thing to do was, but he was out like a light. I didn't know what else to do.

Sinking back on my heels, I take in the room with a bit more concentration. Two more mats are sitting there, one with medical equipment, another just sitting there all folded up. I quickly figure that it probably meant there was one more tribute on this hovercraft. I prayed for a moment that it was Peeta, but then changed my mind when I realized who ever the tribute was, was probably dead.

. . . . . I gather up every bit of nerve I have and steady my weight back onto my feet. With trembling knees, I stand and make my way towards the main control room, but not without grabbing a medical syringe on my way there. I held it as a weapon in one hand, as I listen carefully at the voices. "Peeta's in the Capitol! How do you possibly expect me to tell that to her?" I stop in front of the door, pressing my ear to it; but my heart stops, because I hadn't realized it was an automatic door.

It slides open, and I come face to face with three people who I certainly did not expect to see. "Haymitch?" I take a step back, the syringe now clenched in my fist. "What are you doing with them?" I ask in a shocked sort of tone, referring to the two other people in the room. Finnick Odair, and Plutarch Heavensbe. Finnick must have been the tribute who's empty mat was laying on the floor. Between him and Johanna, I don't think I've ever hated anyone that much in my life. I never thought it was possible to hate so much; but then I look at Plutarch, and I'm able to correct myself on that. "Why is Peeta in the Capitol!?" I'm raising my voice now. My face is probably hideous with hurt and complete anger, because Finnick is looking at me like he's seen a ghost the moment I say this.

"I hate you!" I scream, not pouncing for Finnick, nor for Plutarch, but for Haymitch. He was a _traitor_. "How could you do this to me!?" I hold up the syringe with all my strength, but he catches my wrists and pins be up against the wall of the craft. "How could you let him be taken like that!?"

"You and a syringe, versus the Capitol, huh?" Haymitch pries my fist open, retrieving my weapon and tossing it out behind him. "This is why we never let you make the plans." The moment he releases my wrists, I'm pouncing on him with my fingernails, my target to claw out his worthless drunken eyes; but he catches me again, this time by the waist.

"Let me go!" I scream at the top of my lungs, my voice cracking under the emotion it bares. "You're a traitor! Peeta isn't here! You're a _liar_!"

"Katniss, calm down, I need you to listen to me." Plutarch says, stepping towards us as Haymitch hoists me up under his arm, kicking and screaming.

"Calm down!? Don't you stand there and tell _me_ to calm down!" I scream right back, kicking my mentor in the back of the knee until he falls onto the other.

"She isn't stable!" Finnick exclaims in an almost protective kind of way, grabbing an entirely different syringe from the table in the center; this one for tranquilizing it's victims. "You two are just stressing her out! She's going to hurt herself!" He moves forward, hoisting me off the floor. I scream even louder at his touch, and he nearly drops me, but manages to hang on. "Hold on Katniss," he pleads to me, but I keep on throwing my tantrum. I suddenly feel a cold needle going into my back, and I'm stunned at how fast I feel drowsy.

"You're a... _liar_..." I sob, as he slowly lowers me to floor. Everything goes black after that.

. . . . . My mind goes back to him... to _Peeta_... I think of him, and being with him; I dream of him holding me on his lap, as I listen to his heartbeat inside of his broad chest. It's as if my dream is a reality though, because it's almost like I can feel it through my drowsiness. His arms strong around me, and I could hear him whispering things into my ear, close enough for his lips to lightly brush against the temple of my forehead. For a moment I dreamed of it all happening in District 12, sitting on the couch of my home inside of the Victor's Village. It seems too good to be true, and I want to cry when I feel myself stirring from sleep. _I don't want to leave him_...

"Peeta," I murmur ever so softly through my rough lips, as the light of the world comes back into my view. I find that when my eyes focus, I'm staring down at a pair of arms wrapped around me. I'm somewhat surprised, because now I know that my dream hadn't been fake at all. "Peeta?" I whisper, reaching my hand up to touch his face, followed closely by my eyes. His face feels rougher than usual, and suddenly, I know it isn't him who was holding me.

"Morning," the person said, and I suddenly gasp, becoming fully awake at this moment. I squirm away, falling to my hands and knees on the hovercraft floor. "I thought you'd never wake up." I glare into Finnick's eyes like mine are made of daggers, and I stagger away from him to the opposite side of the seating area. I huddle with my knees to my chest on one of the corner chair near Beetee, who was still passed out in the same position. I probably wasn't asleep for long.

"What is _wrong_ with you?" I gag, letting my loose and unbraided hair fall in my face, as if it would hide me; as if I would be invisible through it.

"Oh, well I figured you wouldn't want to be laying on the control room floor for two hours, so I brought you out here." He began. He opened his mouth to continue, but I cut him off.

"No, why were you holding me?"

"I originally put you back on your mat, and sat here so I could keep an eye on you," He grins his annoying little sex-symbol grin, which makes me want to smack him upside the head to make it go away. "but you started crying in your sleep. As soon as I picked you up, you stopped. Then you started murmuring Peeta's name over and over until you woke up." I turned red at this, but luckily, I still had my hair shield in front of my face.

"Why would you even _care_ if I was crying or not?" I respond with an angry tone, and he stands up, which makes me nervous.

"I don't think you understand the situation, Katniss." He says gently. He goes to sit in the chair next to me, but I stretch my leg out over it. He gets the hint, and sits to the one next to it. He knew I wanted to keep my distance from him... I didn't _trust_ him. "I'm not here to hurt you, I never have been."

"Yeah?" I laugh sarcastically. "Then why were you and Plutarch all buddy-buddy in there?"

"He's not who you think he is."

"He's the _head gamemaker_, Finnick. He was trying to kill us; he volunteered for the job in fact! And you're saying that he's not the person I think he is?" I laugh at this, as if its actually funny. Everything seems like a joke to me right now. Ever since I woke up to cuddly Finnick, my whole brain has been a little bit out of whack.

"No, Katniss, don't you get it?" He snaps his fingers in front of my face a couple times. "Will you _wake up_, and just _listen_ to me?"

"Alright, knock yourself out." I sigh, sitting back on my chair, and hugging my knees to my chest again. By now, he knows his boundaries. For some reason, I'm trusting that he won't fill that chair in between us now that I've moved. My mistake, because he's there now. "_Oh my go-_" I begin moan, ready to tell him how much of an idiot he is; but he interrupts me.

"He's the one who wanted to kick off the revolution once and for all." He explains, and suddenly he has my attention. "He volunteered for the job, not because he wanted to be the gamemaker, but because he was planning on getting you out the entire time." He's losing me more and more with every word.

"Me?" I ask. "Why me?"

"Because you're the Mockingjay."

"The mockingjay? What does that even-"

"You're the symbol of the Rebellion... Plutarch wants you to lead the districts." Now he has me lost entirely.

"_What?_" I ask, as if I hadn't heard any of it.

"The revolution, Katniss." Finnick takes one of my hands. When I try to pull away, he holds on even tighter. Not in a romantic way, but in a way that a friend would... In a way that Peeta would if he were here. "_It's beginning._"


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2** ;  
. . . . . My mind races throughout the entire night, and I'm unable to even shut my eyes, even though the room is black around me. The cold and hard mat underneath my already chilled body isn't exactly relaxing, plus I only found out _today_ that I'm supposed to lead an entire nation in _war_. How is that even possible? How do they expect me, out of all people, to be a _leader_? I am not the kind of person who should lead armies of people, and I am _definitely_ not the kind of person who should be looked up to. Hasn't Haymitch caught on by now? Why wouldn't he have set Plutarch straight from the very beginning? It isn't fair, because I never even had a say in this position... The only reason I'm even seen as eligible for this is because I defied the rules, over some stupid boy _who I'll never even see again_. I did it to protect him, and now he's going to just end up dead under the hands of the Capitol anyway. I should have just killed myself with those berries, and let Peeta win. If I had, everything would be fine, and back to the way they should be; where people could starve in safety and send their children off to the reaping... The Hunger Games are _games_... _This is a real war_.

I gasp when the floor underneath me suddenly collapses, and I'm falling from the hovercraft. I'm falling faster than the speed of light, and I can hear a symphony screams all around me; the screams of the some of the tributes that I had to watch die in the games. Glimmer and Cato; Mags and Wiress. They're crying out my name, cursing my soul and wishing death upon me. Their blood is splattered on my Quarter Quell wetsuit, and I find myself screaming apologies to all four of them as they taunt me with their haunting lifeless eyes. When I finally escape from them, I find myself trapped inside a forest; I can barely hold onto my tears when I see Rue laying there in front of me with flowers all around her. She is motionless, and blood is pouring from the gash in her stomach. Her voice is echoing in my head, asking me why I let her die; why I let this happen to her. The mockingjays are singing her song in the trees, and their chirps are getting louder and louder, until my ears feel like they're going to bleed out in a broken flow. Suddenly, the mockingjays swarm around me like locusts, pecking at my skin until I'm bleeding a river. They're burning me, with my own fire. From the very inside out and all the way out, they're burning me. _They're burning me!_

I don't realize that I had fallen asleep, until I bolt up screaming in the darkness. In a burning hot sweat, I look around and realize that the floor hadn't opened up underneath me at all... I was safe, in the spot where I had been laying before any of it happened. Finnick is at my side suddenly, crouching by my mat and asking me what had happened. He's a little too close, so I scoot away after I'm able to catch onto my own thoughts. "Nightmares... but I'm okay." I whisper, trying not to wake anyone; as if my screaming hadn't already done that.

"Ah, nightmares." Finnick gives a sad grin, settling into criss-cross next to me, a little too comfortably. "I get 'em too."

"So did Peeta," I murmur underneath my jagged breath. "I'm sorry I woke you."

"Don't worry about it." He smiles. You can tell he's eager to hug me, or touch me in a friendly way so I can begin to feel better; but he didn't, not out of fear, but out of respect for me. "It's just a victor thing." He smirks, and I can't help but smile too. It was so true, the way he put it; true enough that it was almost _funny_. "Are you gonna be okay?" He asks, and I simply nod.

"Yeah, I'm fine." I respond, clearing my throat of it's hoarseness and salty tears.

"Alright," he lags in getting up to go back to his mat, and I feel relieved when he finally does. I hadn't exactly been expecting anyone to be able to comfort me from my nightmares anymore... Peeta was gone, and he was the only person I thought I knew who still got them and understood the pain of them. I was a little surprised that Finnick out of all people still got them, and that he wanted to comfort me from mine.

"I feel bad for waking you up..." I insist again, wiping my sweaty forehead with the back of my hand, along with the stream of tears from my eyes.

"Don't." He whispers back, giving me one of his charming winks, as he lays down on his mat. He flips to the other side, so that his back is facing me. I lay back down and face the wall on the opposite side, hoping that sweet sleep will want to embrace me again. To my surprise, I'm able to drift off pretty soon after that. There are no more nightmares; nothing but a restful sleep pokes at me for the rest of night.

. . . . . The morning rolls in slowly, and I'm able to sleep in rather well. Or at least a lot better than I expected I would, anyway. When I finally arouse from my peaceful rest, my eyes slide open so slowly, that I',m somehow unalarmed by a familiar face that sits close to me. Not Finnick like I first expect, but a boy who looks a lot like Gale. "Gale?" I whisper, my voice still weak with exhaustion. I squint my eyes against the lights in the hovercraft, and indeed, it's him, smiling down at me like he always did.

"Hey Catnip." He says, his voice barely audible above a gentle whisper. His hands feel warm as they gently stroke at the outline of my jawline, but I can't help but smile at the feeling of his familiar rough hands. "You slept in."

"I know..." I murmur, letting my eyes slide shut a brief moment longer before looking back up to his kind face. "I missed you."

"I missed you too," a saddened smile comes to his lips, as my eyes wander up to the ceiling. All is silent for a least a good minute. "How do you feel?" He finally asks, his voice cracking on the last word as if he's still going through puberty; back in the good old days when he and I first met.

"I feel okay." It was a lie, I don't feel okay. I feel miserable.

"Good," he smiles again, lifting my hand so that he can kiss it softly. Somehow, I'm swooned by this, but I'm much too exhausted to even look back to him. For some reason, I can't seem to take my eyes off of the ceiling. "How'd you feel about the news?" My stomach twists up at this question, being reminded of this entire ordeal again.

"I don't know if I've been able to feel anything about it yet, honestly."

"I know, it's a lot to take in;" He murmurs, now pressing my hand to his cheek and holding it there tightly in a comforting way. "but I figured, if anyone could take it, it would be you." I softly rub my loose thumb against his cheek, and a smile jerks at the end of my lips. I've missed him more than words could ever tell. After being pushed into the train station after the Quarter Quell reaping without making my goodbyes, my mind had convinced itself that I'd never be able to say goodbye to him again; I hadn't been able to say goodbye to Prim either.

Prim.

"Where's Prim?" I ask, my smile fading into a look of fear as I sit up and stare into his gray Seam eyes. My fingers falter away from his face now, and I wrap my arms around myself as if I'm craning for my own comfort.

"She's okay." He says in a reassuring voice. I let out a sigh of relief, and rub at my unusually itchy eye. "I got her out in time." My muscles go numb for a moment, and I drop my hand from my face to stare at him in tired confusion.

"What do you mean? She's not in Twelve?"

"No,"

"Why?" I ask, my eyebrows knitting together in concern. "Where is she? Is Prim with my mother?"

"Katniss, you need to know something."

"Where _are _they?" I urge again.

"Prim is safe, Katniss. She's in District 13, recovering-"

"Recovering from what?" My voice is getting more frantic now, and I'm suddenly demanding answers from him.

"We're going to go see her right no-"

"From _what_, Gale?" I say again, this time my voice is raised in a yell. He's silent, and I know he's hiding something from me, something _important_. "From what?" My voice is soft this time, more like a beg for mercy than anything else.

"After the games..." He hesitates, and I'm uneasy at the thought of what the next couple sentences might hold. "... hovercrafts from the Capitol came in... They..." His eyes are filling with tears, and all of the sudden, mine are too, because I know what he's going to say. "They started dropping fire bombs..." My heart felt as if it had stopped and turned to stone, because it was dropping into my stomach before he could even finish his sentence.

"Where's my mother?" I ask, as if I hadn't already realized what the answer would be... I was only left to hope that I was _wrong_. Please, let me be wrong.

"Katniss... Your mother-" A tear is streaming down his face. "She-"

"She's _what_!?" I grasp at his arm intensely, shaking him to get the answer out quicker.

"She's dead."

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**Authors note ;  
**Hey guys, I really hope you've enjoyed the story so far! I have some big plans ahead for this fanfic, so please make sure to follow! I promise you won't be disappointed! c: Also, please review while you're at it! I really enjoy hearing everyone's feedback! :D


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3; "District 13"  
**. . . . . District 13 was nothing like I imagined at all when Finnick had described it to me. He said it was all underground systems, which made me immediately think of little dirt tunnels where people would huddle in the dark; but to my surprise, it was almost up to Capitol par. The entrance to the district is a trap door hidden in the tree line amongst the initial ruins of the upper-level district. Underneath, a long elevator that brings you a good fifty feet into the ground, and that's just the first floor. The walls are made of plastic and steel lining that is very Capitol like. The flooring was mostly made of concrete, but in some areas the same as the walls. The rooms are separated by compartments, and the first fifteen floors are all for the residents in their tacky grey jumpsuits. The first place we're taken when we arrive is our living compartments. Finnick and I are currently marked down to share until Prim gets out of the hospital towards the main floors, and frankly, I'm pretty uncomfortable with it. Sleeping in the same hovercraft with him was claustrophobic enough, so I can't even imagine what sharing a bunk space will be like.

. . . . . "Cozy." Finnick says, giving me a smug smile as we walk into our compartment. There's barely any room to walk between the wall and the bunk beds, and I'm already feeling like I'm trapped in a box... District 13 _is_ a box. There's drawers inserted in the wall, and a small doorway that leads into a bathroom thats just as big as the room itself minus the bunk that takes up space. It's reasonably plain. "Mind if I take top bunk until we move out again?"

"Go for it." I murmur. "I'm gonna go find Gale."

"Leaving so soon? I was hoping we could get a little more _comfortable._" He says playfully.

"Hmm." I return, as if it was actually a tough decision. "You... My sister..." I flattened both my hands, looking down at them and moving them both up and down as if comparing them. "Sounds tempting but... I should probably go see Prim."

I barely turn around when I bump into someone wearing a gray jumpsuit. "I'm surprised they actually let you into the district wearing that getup." Gale says, and I look down to find that I'm still dressed in tribute attire. I haven't changed out of it since I entered the arena over a week ago, and I suddenly feel kinda disgusting. "Why don't you take a shower? You can change into this when you're finished." He opens up his old game bag, pulling out a gray jumpsuit identical to the one he's wearing. "I was supposed to give it to you on the hovercraft, but it slipped my mind." He hands Finnick one too, but at least Finnick had changed multiple times between the arena and now.

"Does everyone wear the same thing here?" I ask, raising my eyebrows to the suit I held in my hands. I rubbed the fabric between by fingers, and it feels more like something you would wear in a prison. I feel like it _is_ prison.

"Yup, we're under a strict schedule here. It's for our best interested, though."

"Who could be _interested_ in this?" I complain, and he gives me a look. "Alright, I'll go."

I find that the bathroom connected to our compartment is almost as nice as the ones in the Capitol; like many things here. After securing the door tight to avoid Finnick's unwanted but guaranteed entry, I run my fingers over the shower controls. Different buttons for different types of soaps, along with a waterproof touch screen in the wall that allows you to watch television, listen to music, or play little mini games that probably aren't any good. It also has announcements about schedule changes, and the actual schedule for the day on the home screen. I wonder what kind of loser would actually use it, and leave it at the home screen as I turn on the shower faucet; but secretly, I think I might use it eventually.

. . . . . After my shower, I get into my tacky jump suit and braid my hair in my usual style. Gale and I take a long ride in the elevator, and my ears pop the more we go down. The air is thick on the main floors of District 13, probably because we're so deep in the ground. They do a good job keeping it well ventilated with the forest air above, but it still takes a little more effort to breath than usual.

On the first main floor, right under the fifteenth and final citizen compartment floor, is the official governmental area, where all the decisions for the rebellion will surely be made over the next year or so. It's blocked off by guards, with locked iron doors; probably soundproof. On the second main floor (floor seventeen) is the cafeteria, where every person in the district eats the same meal every single day. It's rationed out, which isn't very surprising; you don't see a lot of gardens or wild animals in an underground city. They also have the stamping station, where each person gets their daily schedule printed on their arm. Everyone is on the same schedule in which isn't too flexible, and I find that odd. The national headquarters for the rebellion has no room to be rebellious. The third main floor (floor eighteen) is where the hospital and medical unit lays, and I know the moment the smell of hard drugs and hand sanitizer hits me, that Prim is somewhere on this floor.

"We're looking for Prim," Gale takes the lead, asking the woman near the front for assistance.

"Of course Gale, come with me." He must have visited my sister a lot, since the woman knew his name. An odd appreciation for him comes into my heart, and I'm glad that he was there to look after her, since my mother couldn't be there anymore.

. . . . . A painful expression crosses my face when I see her, laying there helplessly under a bright light, covered in thick quilts and felt blankets. An IV strap is fastened at the crook of her elbow, and I can hear the soft beeping of her heart rate on the monitor next to her bed. Her forehead is bandaged, and I can see crimson stains coming through them. Her lip is cracked, and she has a brace on her arm. My heart is being torn at the seams.

Her eyes slide open weakly at the sound of our footsteps, and I quietly approach the bed. My eyes are filling with shimmering cold tears that I refuse to dispel. "Prim," I murmur, but my voice cracks in distress. I kneel by her, taking her hand in both of mine. I seem to squeeze them a little too hard, because she winces.

"Katni-" Her voice breaks off into a soft cough, it sounds weak, broken... My vision is blurry with the tears now, and suddenly, they're spilling down my cheeks like a river.

"Oh, Prim." I cry, wrapping her up in my arms and balling into her dusty blonde hair. I can smell the smoke that settled on her skin, and the ashes that made their nest in her hair. The smell makes me think of home, and the horrifying image of it being bombed... the horrifying image of my mother being caught in its blow... I can't breath for a moment, because I'm sobbing so hard. I can feel her weak embrace around my neck, and I hold her even tighter. "Prim." I say again, kissing her on her face over and over again despite the sick taste of decaying smoke on my lips.

"You're alive..." Prim whispers, and I slowly part enough to stare into her smiling face. How she can smile despite her pain, I don't know; but I smile back at her, because I can't help it. Leave it to Prim to make the scariest moments a little bit happier.

"Yes, I am." I whisper back, another sob coming out as I cup her face in my hands. "So are you."

"Yeah..." She says back, letting her eyes slide shut again as she takes a breather to get back her energy.

"H-how are you feeling?" I ask, stealing a quick glance at Gale who is still standing in the doorway. His heart looks just as broken as mine feels.

"I'm okay." She smiles again. She opens her eyes again and seems to stare at me in awe, like she couldn't believe I was there. Looking back and fourth between my eyes, her smile slowly began to fade into a look of fear... She was afraid; I could see it. "I... I tried to save her..." She suddenly choked out, clutching onto the blankets, her body shaking.

"Oh Prim, don't talk about it." I respond as gently as I can, squeezing her hand. "I know you did..." I embrace her again, resting her head into my chest as I stroke her hair. My eyes wander back to Gale once more, and more tears stream down my face. "We all did..."

. . . . . As soon as I step out of her hospital room, which has to be hours after I came in, I find myself collapsing onto my knees in the empty hallway. I already let Gale leave, because he had to go up to the governmental floor for a meeting about the rebellion, so I'm left alone here to wish I was dead. I can't take this anymore, the thought of Snow destroying my home and my family; the thought of Peeta being locked up in shackles with peacekeepers to watch his every move and beat him whenever he does something wrong; the thought of Finnick being the only person left who understands my nightmares. This all_ seems_ like a nightmare, and I'm praying that I'll just wake up back in District 12 the morning of the 74th reaping. None of this should be real.

I'm starting to forget who I am, or what I even value in my life anymore. Peeta is gone, my mother is gone. If I didn't have Prim here, I'd be nothing. Perhaps Snow let me have her so that I have something to live for; perhaps he wants me to keep myself alive so that he can personally get into my head on a later date... Or perhaps I'm already dead.

Through the thickness of tears, I form words in my lips like a lullaby; not to put myself into a dream, but to pull myself back into reality.

_I am Katniss Everdeen.  
I survived the Hunger Games, twice.  
My home is gone.  
My mother is dead.  
I'm in love with someone who might already be dead,  
and Finnick is the only person left who understands._

As if I even know what reality is anymore.


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4 ; "Nightmares"  
**. . . . . About an hour has passed since my breakdown in the hospital hallway, and I've managed to make my way back up to my compartment. Finnick isn't around, which makes me thankful, and I start to believe that I'm probably the only active person in the district who isn't following the schedule right now. Despite the fact that I took a shower right before I went to visit Prim, I feel filthy enough to scrub myself down all over again. I lock myself in the bathroom, turning on the hot water again and stripping down to my skin. I spend a solid twenty minutes scrubbing every inch of my skin until it's raw, and then another ten to fifteen scrubbing my already clean hair with lavender shampoo. The mirror is totally steamed up by the time I'm out, but for some reason, I don't feel better.

My towel is wet and cold from my shower this morning, so I grab a new one from under the sink. It's silky and warm, so I wrap myself up like a roll of sushi in it. Not wanting to get dressed and go out to face the world again, I plop down on the lid of the toilet and inhale the steamy air around me, trying to push aside all my negative thoughts... but honestly, when it comes down to it, the only thoughts I have _are_ negative.

A beeping noise catches my attention while I'm in the middle of feeling sorry for myself. I look towards the shower where the touch screen sits on the wall, and realize that it's flashing with red words, a silhouette of a Mockingjay above it. My breath catches in my throat, as I stand and move closer to it.

'_Katniss Everdeen, report to headquarters._' Great.

. . . . . Within minutes, I'm fully dressed in my gray jumpsuit again. I leave my hair out as it is, and my skin looks blotchy with red spots from scrubbing it so hard, but I dismiss my awkward appearance and pull on my boots. I lock up my compartment, and when I turn to the elevator, I run right into Finnick. He's in his jumpsuit now, and his rolled up sleeve reveals the printed schedule on his arm.

"Where are you going in such a hurry?" I push him aside. I'm not ready to deal with another Finnick moment right now.

"I have to go downstairs, I was called to headquarters." I start towards the elevator, but he interrupts my trail.

"How's your sister?" He asks genuinely. I stop and turn to him; his eyes are gentle, and I can tell he sees how broken I probably look.

"She's fine." I say back, my voice quiet.

"Good." He softly as I turn to leave, but I find him grabbing my arm with a gentle grip to stop me again. "How are _you_?"

"I'm..." I hesitate, almost wanting to tell the truth... but then I remember who I'm talking to. "I'm fine too. I'll talk to you later."

. . . . . My ears pop again like they had this morning as the elevator shoots down further into the ground, and soon it comes to an abrupt stop at my floor. I step out, and feel intimidated by the guards standing their posts on either side of the door. I expect them to question me, but instead, when they see me, they smile and open the doors up for my entry. I'm suddenly overtaken in awe with the sight of the room. A long dark red mahogany table stretched at least twenty chairs down the long hall that's shaped like a dome. The ceiling is made of screens, each one broadcasting a different event that has taken place so far in the uprising, along with speeches from the President, and clips from the 74th and 75th games. It's strange, because I can count at least twelve screens that show my face. It's really beginning to set in now, how important I've been through this whole thing, and it makes me feel uncomfortable.

A sudden applause rings in my ears, and I snap back into reality when I look around me to see the people of District 13. Half of them are dressed in business like apparel, and I realize that I probably shouldn't have worn the jumpsuit to this particular event; it isn't a meeting about the rebellion, its a party for the homecoming of _me_. Then I see his face since the first time I woke up in the hovercraft... "Katniss!" Plutarch Heavensbe exclaims, moving forward and giving my hand a good shake. "It's good to see you again." It takes every ounce of self control not to claw his eyes out, because for some reason, I feel the same hatred as I did in the hovercraft.

"There she is, the Girl On Fire!" One woman explains.

"Our Mockingjay!" A man cries, as if he was praising me.

"Hey there, sweetheart." This voice is sickly familiar, and I turn to see Haymitch just inches behind me with a beverage in his hand. "It's nice to see you when you aren't ready to kill anyone." That's what he thinks.

I force myself to smile and be happy to see all these people, but in reality I really just want to go back to my compartment and take another shower.

. . . . . By the time the party is over, I've eaten more than my ration's share of food, and talked to every person who has some kind of importance in the rebellion. The only one I haven't met, who I'm supposed to meet later on in the week, is President Alma Coin... I mean, she's not really the President _yet_, but she will be once we take over the Capitol. Apparently, she's the best woman for the job.

I make my way back up to my compartment by the escort of Gale, since based on the clocks, it's late at night. We whisper back and fourth about the people we met. "You hate him, don't you?" He asks, and I knew he was referring to Plutarch. I decided to play dumb.

"Who?"

"Plutarch." I was almost hoping he wouldn't give me a straight answer, so that I could avoid the question all together.

"He's..." I murmur, trying to hold my tongue. "smart."

"Smart?"

"I mean, he got away with this by pretending to be a trustworthy Gamemaker, right?"

"Yeah, exactly." Gale replies, but I can tell he knows that I'm just making all of this up to hold myself back from being rude. "He's a really awesome guy when you get to know him Katniss, don't worry. He and President Coin are going to be incredible leaders for us."

"They act like I'm leading this whole thing, but they call themselves the leaders. It's so confusing."

"You're the symbol. Leading for real is too dangerous for someone who brings hope to an entire nation. They've set it up in order to protect you."

"I don't need to be protected." I come back, rolling my eyes at the thought. "I'm not the little girl who went into the games, I can fend for myself."

"I know you can, but it never hurts to get a little help." The elevator opens up now, and I take a deep breath of relief. I don't like the topic, so I'm glad to part ways with him for the night. "I'll see you tomorrow," he says quietly as I exit the elevator. It closes up again around him, before it brings him back down towards his compartment floor.

. . . . . I knock on the door, knowing that Finnick is probably still home. I can hear the shower running after a moment of listening, so I take out my key and let myself in, figuring he wouldn't have heard my knock. The first thing I notice is that the bathroom door is open, and I'm thankful that the open door blocks the view of the shower, because his clothes are all over the floor. "Ew, Finnick." I murmur quietly, closing the door up a bit more so that I don't have any chance of seeing that version of him after he gets out. He probably knew I would be back, which bugs me all the more, since he most likely left it open on purpose. He's flirty on way too many levels for me.

I quickly change out of my jumpsuit into blue pajama pants and a black tank top that are sitting in my drawer. I turn my bunk light off, leaving Finnick's top bunk light on as I crawl under the covers. I have no interest in talking to him, so I don't make an effort to stay awake as I let the soft sound of the shower on the other side of the wall lull me to sleep.

. . . . . I wake up with a scream, bolting upright in bed at the image of my arrow piercing Marvel's heart. I almost hit my head on the top bunk, but luckily there's just enough room that I missed it. Finnick must have been in bed too, because his bunk light is off. I swallow hard, hearing Finnick's movement above me as he wakes up. I see his silhouette hopping down from his bunk moments later, and he crouches by my bed. "Nightmares?" He asks, and I nod even though he probably cant see me in the pitch black room. "Do you want me to stay?" He asks, and I push away the question immediately after.

"No, I'm fine." I reply, and after a moment of waiting incase I would change my mind, he goes back onto his own bunk. Of course I don't want _him_ to stay with me. I want _Peeta_ to be here, not him.

. . . . . I'm breathless the second time I awake from my sleep, gasping for air and coughing like I had been drowning in my own nightmare. I had been attacked by the monkey mutts in the clock arena, and one pulled me so deep under the water that I couldn't breath. I'm drenched in hot sweat, and I clutch onto the blankets at my sides, awaiting the movement of Finnick above me. He comes down from his bunk again like I knew he would, as if he didn't already know exactly how the conversation was going to go. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah, sorry I woke you."

"Do you want me to stay?"

"No."

. . . . . I'm shocked when I wake up screaming for the third time, and I can't even begin to fathom how I was even able to get that many nightmares in one night. This time, it had been about Peeta. I had been imagining that I had been forced to watch him being tortured by the Capitol on live television. I swallow back my tears, and my body is shaking recklessly with fear. As I had twice before, I look up towards the bunk above me, awaiting Finnick's movements. I can hear him toss and turn, but he doesn't come down... and for a moment, I almost wish he would. I'm too afraid to sleep again. Through tears and sweat, I quietly whisper, "Finnick?"

I hear him move again, but he still doesn't come down. "Yeah?" He asks in a soft and tired voice, letting out a moan as he stretches out. I'm too afraid to ask, so I climb out from my blankets and grope my way to the ladder. Climbing onto his bed, I manage to wriggle my way next to him. I lay with my back to his chest, and I feel him bury his face into my hair as he pulls the covers up over us. His warm breath on my neck brings me comfort, and I suddenly feel his protective arms embrace me. Through my shakiness, I feel safe wrapped up with him. Despite our love-hate relationship, in an odd way, I'm brought a strange kind of peace...

There are no more nightmares tonight.


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5 ; "Fire And Water"**  
. . . . . My eyelids feel heavy as I roll awake, my arm stretching across my bed until my fingers brush up against someone. "Peeta?" I murmur quietly, as I roll my eyes open. I gasp, when I see Finnick's bare chest against my palm. I snapped into reality, sitting upright. I had forgotten I got in bed with him, and I'm somewhat grossed out that I did. I figure I must have done it out of drowsiness, just wanting to sleep since the nightmares had been keeping me up all night. I push away, untangling the covers between us and moving towards the ladder. I stay quiet, trying not to wake him, thankful he hasn't already. I'm tempted to slip back into my own bed and sleep in a bit longer, since my eyes are burning from the lack of sleep; but I can see the light in the hallway, and I know it's morning. I tiptoe over to the dresser, pulling out my ugly jumpsuit and retreat to the bathroom to change. I do my hair in it's usual braid.

When I open the door again, Finnick is sitting casually with his legs dangling over his bunk. He's wearing nothing but loose green plaid pajama pants and I wince; he's even gorgeous right after he wakes up. "Hey Katniss." He yawns, wiping at one of his eyes.

"Hi," I grin a little.

"You doing okay?"

"Yeah, I'm great." I lie, rubbing at the back of my neck with one hand. He swings his legs forward, his feet gripping onto my waist before he pulls me towards him in a playful manner. I give an awkward gaze as he strokes my cheek, and for a second I think he's going to kiss me.

"Good." He says quietly, "You seemed pretty freaked out last night."

"That's because I was." I gently push his hand away and pull from his leg grasp around my waist, not wanting to seem rude. I grab my boots and sit on the edge of my bunk, pulling them on and fastening the laces.

"Well I'm glad I could help you." _Great_, he remembers me climbing in bed with him last night.

"I hope you know," I struggle for a moment as I tighten up my laces. "that it was a one time thing."

"Well I hope you know," he hops down from the bed, and moves towards the bathroom. He stops in the doorway, looking back at me and giving one of his most seductive winks. "there's no way it won't happen again." My heart skips a beat, and the words are suddenly rattling in my head.

"Is that I challenge?" I ask, narrowing my eyes.

"Nope, it's a promise." He says, before closing the door.

I hate him.

. . . . . In the hallway, I look at the clock to find that it's only seven in the morning, and I wish I would have just gone back to bed. I decide to go down to Gale's compartment so we can visit Prim before we have to start following schedule; I'm planning on actually following it today... or trying. I knock on his door, and find that it's completely silent on the other side. I knock again, and again, but he doesn't seem to be around. Maybe he was called to headquarters early, or beat me to Prim.

I go in the elevator and I'm greeted with the familiar ear pop as it goes down towards the medical unit. Nobody is at the front desk when I arrive, so I escort myself through the hallway towards where I remember Prim's room to be. I quietly open the door, and see that she's fast asleep. The lights are off, and everything is silent other than the quiet beeping of her heart rate on the monitor. I shut the door behind me, and take a seat next to her bed. She's laying on her side, her blonde hair swept along her cheek and onto her neck. Her breathing is slow and peaceful sounding, and I lean over the bed and rest my head on my arms. I realize that I've never really watched my sister sleep before; she seems so innocent, and gentle... she's _too_ gentle.

I suddenly feel sorry for even dragging her into this entire thing, and wish I would have just eaten the berries when I had the chance. It would have saved her, it would have saved my mother, and it would have saved _Peeta_. Everyone would be safe if it wasn't for me, and I know in my heart that I will never stop owing people who I've damaged.

. . . . . "Hey Catnip," I turn to see Gale standing in the doorway. I smile half heartedly and rise back up onto my feet. "How was your first night in Thirteen?" He asks curiously, and I brush the loose hair away from my face.

"It was okay." I'm not planning on telling him about the nightmares, or the _Finnick thing_.

"You slept alright?" He returns.

"Not exactly... I just couldn't stop thinking about Peeta."

"I know..." He suddenly embraces me, and I hug him back with all my might. I realize how much I've missed his comfort. "We're going to do everything we can to get him back here alive, and when we do, you won't have to worry anymore."

"But I will, Gale." I say, squeezing my eyes shut. He parts with me and looks at me in the eyes like he's staring right into me. "I'll never stop worrying."

"About Peeta?"

"About _everything_." I want to cry, but my eyes refuse to become moist with tears. "About Prim, about the rebellion, about my own sanity, and about _you_."

"You don't need to worry about me," Gale smiles with a soft chuckle. "I can fend for myself." He mocks me from our conversation yesterday, but I don't exactly find it funny.

"You're not going to fight, are you?" I ask, the image of him with a machine gun flashing in my head, walking straight into this death row I've created.

"I..." He hesitates.

"No, Gale." I say, and he shakes his head.

"Katniss, I don't think you realize-"

"Realize what?" I demand, before realizing that we're still in the room with my sleeping little sister. I grab his wrist and pull him out the door, carefully shutting it before turning back to him. "I'm not going to let you."

"You can't exactly stop me from fighting for what I believe in."

"Yes, I can." I argue, narrowing my eyes. "I'm your leader now."

"No, President Coin is. You're not the one who's going to make big decisions like who's fighting, and who's not." He cups my face in my his hands, but I push him away.

"Stop."

"Stop what?"

"Trying to make this okay." I growl, turning away from him with arms crossed. "You can't just turn on your charm and hope that it'll make this situation any better."

"Listen to me,"

"Why should I?" I scoff, turning back to him and shaking my head.

"No matter what happens, I'll always be-"

"No you won't!" I give him a good shove in the shoulders, and he looks at me like I've wounded him. "If you go out there, you'll die! If you die, I won't have anyone else to turn to! Gale, I need to take care of my sister, but who's going to take care of me!?" It's official, I've broken. I'm letting my walls down, because what I just said contradicts everything I've said about how I can take care of myself, and how I can handle the pain I'm going through... but honestly, I _can't_. "I c-can't do this without you." The tears are finally coming, and my throat is burning with them.

"I'm not going anywhere." He whispered, after a long moment of letting me cry into my hands. He wrapped me in his arms, but instead of pushing him away again, I let myself melt into his chest with my sobs. "I'm not going anywhere." He repeated again, stroking at my hair and pressing his lips to my forehead in a gentle kiss. "I'll always be here for you, and for your sister." He promised, and I made an effort to control my sobs, but they only worsened.

"Katniss?" A sudden voice comes through the closed door, and I shoot my eyes up to look at it. "Katniss?" It's Prim, and I know that I was probably the one to wake her up. I let the silence grow for a moment as I look up at Gale with eyes that are full of hurt, and I begin wiping the tears away with my sleeve.

"Go see her." He whispers, letting my slip from his arms. He gives me a little push towards the door, and I slowly open it up, hoping the darkness of the room will keep her from seeing the puffiness of my face; only because I know she'll ask me what happened.

. . . . . "Hey, little duck." I coo, walking over to her and kissing her on the top of the head. She gives me a weak grin, settling back into her pillows as she looks up at my partially lit-up face. I kneel beside her, as she parts her dry lips to speak.

"Are you okay?" She whispers, and I know now that she had heard me yelling, or perhaps crying.

"Yeah, everything is okay."

"Where's Gale?" She asks, moving her eyes past me towards the cracked open door.

"He just left... I'm sure he'll be back later to see you." I take her hand and squeeze it, getting a squeeze from her in return. "How are _you_ feeling?"

"A little better."

"Good," I caress her cold pale cheek with my warm hand. "why don't you go back to sleep, okay?"

"Yeah..." I go to stand, but she grab my hand again. "Can you stay for a while?" I hesitate, but nod.

"Of course." I grab the chair that's resting on the wall behind me, and pull it up to the side of the bed. I adjust her pillows so that she can lay down, and she lets her eyes roll shut again so she can rest. With the gentlest voice I can muster with the leftover sobs in my throat, I sing to her.

_Deep in the meadow,  
under the willow._  
_A bed of grass,_  
_a soft green pillow.  
Lay down your head,  
and close your eyes,  
and when they open,  
the sun will rise._

Once her heart rate slows down, and I know she's asleep, I manage to grow a soft grin. I quietly whisper to myself;

_I am Katniss Everdeen.  
I live in District 13 because my home is gone.  
I've survived the Hunger Games, twice.  
My mother is dead.  
Gale is going to fight in the war.  
Peeta is in the Capitol.  
But I have the most beautiful sister in the world,  
and protecting her is all that matters anymore._


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6 ; "The Revolution"  
**. . . . . The day progresses at an extremely slow pace from what I'm used to, and I spend most of it going in and out of the hospital, and raiding the compartment to put in extra hours of sleep. Finnick hasn't been around much at all since this morning, so I'm happy. By now, I've totally pushed aside the fact that I had wanted to start getting used to the district schedule. I know I wouldn't do well with it, because I'm not exactly the kind of person who follows the rules; if that isn't obvious already.

The small tablet screen by the door of our room (which can be used a lot like the one in our shower) starts beeping and flashing in a dark red color, which pulls me out of my drowsiness almost immediately. It takes me a moment for my eyes to adjust, but I'm able to read the message quite clearly from my spot on the bed. '_Katniss Everdeen, Finnick Odair: please report to headquarters.' _I murmur something under my breath that my mother probably would have scolded me for if she had heard, and push myself up off the comforting blankets. After slipping my boots back on and lacing them all the way up, I move for the door and head to the elevator. I don't really want to bother with finding Finnick, so I'll just let him make his way there by himself.

. . . . . When I make it to headquarters, my arrival takes a much different approach than last time. Instead of happy smiles, and opening doors, I'm greeted with an uncomfortable security check. They pat me all the way up and down, and I feel a bit humiliated as if I've done something wrong; or maybe like I've just lost my dignity. The whole nightmare of the situation becomes even worse when the elevator opens up to Finnick's amused face, as they pat down the most uncomfortable place of all. When I'm finally let free, my face feels hot with embarrassment. They give Finnick a pat down too, but he seems like he's totally laid back about the whole thing. He's probably used to being touched all over by now, but I certainly am not. "No need to be embarrassed." He whispers into my ear as the guards let us into the meeting room, and I manage to get a good pinch of skin on his bare wrist. He lets out a soft whimper that sort of makes me feel bad, because it sounded more like a puppy than anything else.

"I'm not embarrassed." I come back at him, rolling my eyes as we walk the hallway. It's not long before we're in the huge dome shaped room once more, and we begin to take in the commotion.

. . . . . The long table is almost completely filled with people, at the end, a woman with sharp facial features and short grey hair cut into a bob. I bet she's the president of the rebellion that everyone has been talking about. Everyone is dressed in jumpsuits this time, so I feel much less out of place than I did at the party. This must be a real meeting, rather than a day set aside for the president and the mockingjay to finally come face to face. My stomach twists up, and I'm somewhat afraid of what the next hour or two would hold... What if they have bad news about the Capitol's captives? What if they have bad new about _Peeta_?

"Katniss Everdeen, Finnick Odair." President Coin rises to greet us, motioning to a couple empty seats between her and Plutarch Heavensbe. "Please take a seat." Finnick and I exchange a look before obeying her wish. I take the seat closest to her, but only because Finnick snatched the other one up too fast. "It's a pleasure to finally meet the both of you." She gives both our hands a good shaking, before taking her seat again as well. "As you can see, we have a lot we need to tell you about what has happened since you've gone into the arena." She looks up at the screens all above our heads, and I take in the scenes around us. Once again, I'm able to pick out my face multiple times.

"Fire bombs in District 12, government shut downs and riots in all the others? I think we already know." Finnick begins with a sharp tongue, and I find myself glaring at him to behave. I've never been one to be respectful, but this was his first time ever meeting the most important person in the rebellion. I'm the one that got people's attention, but I'm at least a step below her; she's the _real_ leader, I'm the fake one set out for display.

"Well yes, but there has been much more than that." Coin replies in a way that sounds friendly, but her face doesn't look the part at all. "President Snow has covered the entire nation in lock down mode, meaning that not a single district isn't being raided by peacekeepers for the time being." The biggest section of the screen directly above us is showing a bloodbath within District 11. All I can think about is Rue's family. "They're burning homes, and destroying lives, all because of the explosion you created." The way she says it makes me feel guilty.

"You make it sound like what she did was a bad thing." Haymitch chimes in, and I look down the table to meet eye contact with him. I hadn't realized he was here until now, and in an odd way, I'm happy he is. Beside him is Gale, who gives me a bit of a smirk.

"Well, of course is it; but at the same time, it's the only way we could get this revolution on it's toes." Plutarch comes in as well. He opens his mouth to speak further, only to be hushed by a raise of President Coin's pale hand. She's standing now. It wasn't until now that I truly study her face, full of heavy age and sharp cheek bones. She looks like she starves herself because of how thin she is, and I begin to wonder how such an old and fragile woman could lead the entire rebellion; and by extension, the entire nation if we win this thing. Then I begin to wonder how long she has probably waited for this day.

"I've lived through seventy-five years of these Hunger Games. I've seen the broken faces come out of it, and I've seen the broken families who's children have become a victim to it." Coin starts, her eyes wandering down to her hand that was planted on the desk top. "Trust me, I'm happy you destroyed that terrible place." Seeing her face, so full of hurt, I can't help but try to fight back my own tears; because I _understand_. "Now, I'm sure you two are both wondering about your fellow victors in the Capitol." She says, and suddenly I become fully numb inside as I stare up at her like a cat begging for food. "We don't know for sure where they are, or if any of them are even alive anymore-" she takes in a breath, as she looks at me, as if trying to give me hope specifically. "but we do know that the Capitol isn't foolish enough to let them die without getting answers first. Fortunately, we may be able to find them before its too late. Unfortunately, they have probably been going through hours of torturing every single day; torture that is designed to _break_ their souls worse than even the Hunger Games can."

I stare at her in my own complete helplessness, and wonder how I couldn't have thought of that before. My Peeta, the one who didn't know any more than I did about this whole thing in the arena, could be being beaten in the Capitol _right this second_. "But he doesn't know." I murmur under my breath to her, and suddenly my eyes are overflowing with tears. I turn my face away so that people on the other side of me cant see, because I don't want to have to appear weak to them... not when I'm supposed to be _a symbol _to them.

"I know, Katniss, he doesn't." She replies, before nodding with a reassuring look. "I will not sleep, I will not take a break, I will not stop working until we know for sure wether they are alive or not." She takes my chin between her thumb and forefinger, staring into my eyes in a way that comforts me. "I will do everything I can, to get them out alive."

. . . . . By the time we're leaving headquarters, I've shed my fair share of tears, but I've barely said a word for hours. Through a look of desperation, I lay my eyes on Finnick the moment the elevator closes around us. "Are you okay?" He asks, and my eyes are once again filling up, no matter how hard I'm telling them to stop. I'm _not_ okay, but I'm not about to go to Finnick for comfort, because I know he'll just come back at me and tease me about it on a later date. I realize how long I must have been staring at him for, because he suddenly looks confused. "Katniss?" I shake my head, and turn my cheek on him. "Listen, I know you're upset with me, about how I teased you this morning-"

"That's not what I'm upset about." I replied without laying an eye on him, but he kept going like he hadn't heard me.

"-but you need to know that I really _am_ here for you. Why do you think I kept getting up when you would wake up screaming? I wanted to make sure that you were okay."

"I don't need to be babied."

"I never said you did... but every victor needs someone who understands their pain." He puts his hand on my cheek, and turns my face up to look at him. Our eyes lock onto each other's like a daze. We're both silent for a while, and my eyes falter to his lips for brief moments in between. His keep faltering to mine in return. My entire world is getting fuzzy around me, and all I can think about right now is _Finnick Odair_, because_ he's right_. "I understand." He whispers, and suddenly I'm snapped back into my sad reality. I push his hand away, crossing my arms and turning my back on him in an odd rage. How foolish I feel, because for a moment there, I actually thought I would kiss him.

"No." I mutter. "You don't."

* * *

**Author's note ; **Ahhh thank you guys for supporting this story so much so far! :D I really appreciate all the nice reviews I've gotten, and all the favorites and follows. I have a ton of fun writing this fanfiction, so I hope you guys enjoy it as much as I do! I can't wait for you to see what I have planned in future chapters!


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7 ; "Untouchable"  
**. . . . . I feel like I'm trapped in a little cage of guilt for the rest of the day, as I struggle coping with Finnick's hurt face every time I see him. I'm angry at myself for so many reasons, that I feel like I've been kicked in the gut with a pair of spiky Capitol heels. Part of me is angry for being harsh with him, the other part of me is angry for not kissing him while I had the chance. I'm confused, I'm desperate for anything that will make me feel better. I feel like a mosaic of every possible emotion for the situation I'm in, and for _Finnick_. I feel frustrated with myself, because I keep pushing him away, just so that I can make him seem like he's a friend again. He's probably just as confused as I am, and I feel terrible for it. I know all he means is well, but its hard to open up to him under the circumstances. I just hope he understands that.

The night feels long, and I barely get any rest because my mind is flooding with worries. Finnick and I haven't spoken a word to each other since the elevator incident, and I hadn't exactly gathered the courage to apologize. I can tell he's sound asleep above me, because I can hear his quiet breath, his body totally motionless. An urge picks at my mind to go up and lay with him, but I try my very best to push it off. I know exactly how it might end, and I don't want to hurt him again. It's funny, because even if I completely open up, and let myself fall for him, I would never deserve him. I never deserved Peeta, or even Gale. I don't deserve to be loved by anyone.

. . . . . I awake from a brief sleep fairly early in the morning, and I peer through the darkness and notice that Finnick's boots aren't in their usual spot next to mine. I guess he already left, and I wish I would have been awake to see him beforehand. Pulling myself out from the warm covers, the coolness of the compartment air hits me like a brick wall. Through shivering hands, I get dressed and pull on my boots, lacing them up without turning the lights on in fear that my eyes might burn. I use the tablet by the door to check what time it is, and what the first schedule point is for today. It's 6:32 am, and breakfast starts at 6:45 am. I haven't eaten much for the last couple days, other than at the party, and dabbles of left over food from Prim's hospital food trays. I realize how hungry I actually am, so I guess I'll at least follow _part_ of the schedule.

When I make it downstairs, I'm immediately met by a smiling Gale. "Hey Catnip," he greets.

"Hey," I respond, staring at him for a moment before pushing myself into his arms as if I was magnetized to him. He hugged me back awkwardly; we don't often embrace like this. We only really do it when one of us is hurting, mostly me. Although, I guess I _am_ hurting.

"You okay?" He asks in a whisper as he pulls me out of a resident's path, pressing his cheek against my temple.

"I'm great." I lie, pressing my mouth to his shoulder and burying it there.

"You sure?" I nod, not really wanting to say anything else. I just want to stay here in this hug, regardless of how awkward it really is. I just want to stay with Gale forever, and not have to worry about the revolution, or Peeta, or Finnick.

"Gale, what should I do?" I whisper after a while of silence.

"What do you mean?" He parts from the hug, looking down into my eyes, his arms still wrapped around my waist.

"Finnick." I probably look pathetic, because I have a pouty face on.

"What about Finnick?"

"I don't know, that's the problem." I bury my face in his shoulder, and I can tell I've totally lost him at this point. He pulls me even further to the side of the breakfast lines, until we're by a wall at the side of the room. We sit there in silence for a while longer, before he parts with me again to stare deep into my soul with his gorgeous gray Seam eyes.

"You have feelings for him, don't you?" He asks, as if he was annoyed with me.

"No." I reply, shaking my head. "At least, I don't think so. But I think I hurt him."

"Oh please," Gale scoffs. "you can't wound Finnick Odair. He's an arrogant peacock, not a fragile puppy." Despite my confusion and helplessness, I can't help but laugh at this. It's true, that's the problem. I probably haven't hurt him, I'm only paranoid that I have. "Speak of the devil." He whispers, and I lift my head to look in the direction that his eyes are. I see Finnick walking towards us, and my stomach twists up. "How about, I leave you two alone, and you apologize?"

"No no no, Gale, please don't lea-" I gasp, grabbing at his wrist as he tries to walk away.

"Gale," Finnick greets. "Katniss," he adds, turning his gaze to me. "Am I interrupting something?"

"Nope, I was just going." Gale grinned, before pulling from my grasp. "I'll catch up with you later, Catnip."

_Great_. Now I hate Gale too.

. . . . . "Are you feeling better?" Finnick asks, but I find myself too tongue tied to reply as I stare at him. "Not gonna answer me? Man, I knew you were good at playing cold shoulder, but you really have no good reason to play it with me. I think we both know I was just trying to help yesterday."

"I'm not playing cold shoulder." I reply, and he looks a state of fake surprise.

"She speaks!" He exclaims, like he just witnessed a miracle.

"Shut up." I growl, turning towards the elevator. I don't feel so hungry anymore.

"Hey, hey, hey." He grabs my wrist, turning me back towards him. "I'm only joking with you."

"Go joke with someone who actually finds it funny, then." I snap arm away from his grasp. The moment I'm inside, I press my compartment floor button and the doors begin to seal me inside. They're just beside to the crease, when they're suddenly interrupted by a boot in their path. Finnick steps in, and I roll my eyes. I move to leave the elevator, but he grabs a hold of my wrist again.

"Katniss," he murmurs, looking at me with eyes full of hurt like he had last night. I stare back into his, full of anger and complete frustration with him. How I felt bad for him, I have no idea, because now it seems like he's only trying to get under my skin. "please just stay."

"No thanks." I scoff, trying to pull away. I keep pulling, until I finally yank away from his grasp. "Just, leave me alone." I plead, turning to leave.

"Please? I really need to talk to you." He begs after me.

"Save it." I say, stepping out of the elevator before looking back. Intercepting the elevator doors again, Finnick dives after me so that he can get a good and strong grip around my waist. I scream as he hoists me up against his chest, not even caring that the whole floor is probably staring at us now.

"Let me go!" I outburst, squirming in the harsh grasp as he pulls me back into the elevator. I fear for my life, even though I know inside that he would never hurt me. The elevator seals itself around us, as he pushes me up against the wall to contain me. "Let me go!" I scream again. I give his leg a good kick with the heel of my boot, and he yelps before both of us tumble backwards onto the concrete floor. A little too stunned and out of breath to move, I stop squirming and breath heavily against his chest. He suddenly bursts into a fit of laughter, and I stare at him in anger. "What are you laughing at?" I growl.

"That was great." He hoots, sitting upright and letting go of his grip on me. I stumble up onto my feet, standing up against the wall and staring at him with confusion. "You're so cute." My eyes suddenly go wide, and I'm in another fit of rage.

"I'm cute?!" I yell, but he keeps laughing at me. I stare at him in silence as I let him calm down, and soon he stands back up, wiping the hysterical tears from the corners of his wet eyes.

"Ah, man." He lets out a short breath, before trying to catch it again. "If only you knew."

"If only I knew what?"

"How people really look at you."

"Oh please, enlighten me Finnick." I say back in a sarcastic tone, still standing my ground at the wall of the confined space. "How do people look at me?"

"People in the districts look at you like a hero, but everyone in District 13 just looks at you like a joke."

"What is that supposed to mean?"

"It just means-" He swallows, leaning against the wall. "-that you, are hilarious. Always throwing fits, and standing up to people like you're some kind of importance."

"Well, believe it or not; I am important to this rebellion."

"Yeah, you are." Finnick grins. He takes a slow step closer to me. "I mean, without you, none of this would be possible, right?"

"None of what? The revolution?"

"Yes, but not only that." He takes another step closer, and in such a small space, one step can make all the difference in my comfort level. "Without you, the other victors wouldn't be in the Capitol..." I narrow my eyes at him. "Effie and your prep team wouldn't need to be rescued..." This part is news to me. "District 12 wouldn't be nothing but ashes..." If he's trying to get under my skin, it's working. "And you and I-" he takes a long pause, moving close enough that I can feel his warm breath on my skin. "-wouldn't be so... comfortable, around each other." I find myself staring down at his chest as I reply, too insecure to make eye contact when we're merely inches apart.

"Who says I'm comfortable?" I swallow, fighting back the urge to push him away again.

"I can just..." He pauses again, and I lowers his voice to a whisper. "feel it." I gather the courage to bring my eyes up to his, and we lock our gazes on each other like we're wrapped up in a dream. I'm mesmerized by him. My eyes falter to his lips, and his to mine. The world is getting fuzzy around me again, just like last night, and all I can think about is Finnick. I hate him for doing this to me, and I hate him for being so damn gorgeous. My whole body is screaming his name, and cursing it at the same time. My mosaic of emotions are spinning in my head, and my heart is thumping in my chest like gun fire. The whole option of pushing him away is becoming less and less apparent in my mind, and suddenly I don't care anymore. Every inch of my body is shaking.

That's when he kisses me.


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter 8 ; "Finnick And His Cologne"**  
. . . . . At first I find myself sinking like the titanic into his arms as our lips touch, my eyes sliding shut in udder bliss. He smells of his heavenly cologne, and his breath tastes of mint. This is much too good to be reality; I think I'm second guessing myself. I find that I'm leaning in towards him more and more with every second that goes by, when I suddenly get the sense to catch myself. In a swift move, I push him away by the shoulders and stare at him in bewilderment.

"Finnick!" I gasp.

"Yes?" He gives me his famous smile, and I scowl back at it.

"Why would you do that?"

"Because you wanted me to!" He laughs.

"That's a lie! It was completely uncalled for!"

"But you enjoyed it." I'm about to speak again, but I freeze at this comeback. Sadly, he's right; and I also realize how badly I want him to do it again. I stare at him for much longer than its probably necessary, and thats when I realize the elevator hasn't even moved. I look over at the buttons and quickly press '_1_' to take us to our compartment

. . . . . . I really need to learn not to trust Finnick to stay in his boundaries, because the moment I turn back around, he's right in front of me. I feel uncomfortable, but unfortunately, it's _me_ that begins the kiss this time. Its swooning and sweet, and suddenly we're wrapped in each other's arms. I've never been one to 'make out', but I feel like that's what this would be considered if anyone else saw. I don't consider it making out though... more like, seeing if he's worth my time. No, that sounds too shallow. I can't think straight... not now.

His hands touch my waist, and he gently rests me against the wall and cranes his head over me. I tilt my head back and just take the time to enjoy his company. Even now, I cant stop shaking, but that doesn't keep me from pulling him closer. The collar of the jump suit makes a good leash to pull him into me with. Soon, his body is so tightly packed up against mine, that I'm squished against the wall; but for some reason, I don't care. We kiss all the way up to the first floor, but to be honest, it didn't even feel that long at all. Thank goodness we stopped before the doors opened up again, cause there in the hall stood _Prim_.

. . . . . "Prim." I gasp, shoving Finnick away and stepping out of the elevator in an awkward movement. I straighten my hair out with the tips of my fingers, and wipe my lips off with the sleeve of my jump suit. "What are you doing out of the hospital?"

"They let me walk around today. It won't be long before we're moved into a compartment together." She gives me an excited smile, but I can't help but notice her eyes trail to Finnick who's standing in the elevator door. She looks quite a bit healthier than she did yesterday, mostly cause it looks like they bathed her. Her hair is silky smooth to the touch, and her skin looks soft. The smokey dust on her face has been entirely washed away, leaving a very grown up little girl underneath.

"That's great." I hug her, and she embraces me back, except this time, her grip is stronger. This brings joy to my heart.

"Hey Finnick," Prim murmurs, peering over my shoulder as we part from the hug.

"Hm," Finnick smiles, and I hear his footsteps coming up behind me. I turn, my arms still somewhat wrapped around my sister. "you must be the famous Primrose Everdeen." He takes a little bow and kisses her hand in a playful manner that makes her laugh a bit. Her laugh is genuine, sweet... innocent.

"Yeah." She responds, tucking a bit of blonde behind her ear. "And you're the famous Finnick Odair."

"Indeed I am." He winks, and I suddenly am grossed out by him all over again only because it was directed to my thirteen year old sister. I hug Prim a little closer, in an almost protective sort of way. "It's nice to meet you."

"You too." She nods, while I give him a half hearted smile.

"Excuse us." I say, and he looks at me as if we've started all over, which I think I'm happy about. I feel dirty knowing I kissed him. I take Prim by the shoulders, walking her passed him towards the elevator again. "Why don't we get you some breakfast, little duck?"

"Oh, you don't need to feel the need to hang out with me today... I mean, you seemed like you were busy." She replies, and I feel my face turn flushed.

"It wasn't anything important." I swallow, biting my lip awkwardly as we step into the elevator where the whole thing happened. I fear that Finnick might have heard the last part. "Besides, I'll take any excuse I can get to hang out with you."

. . . . . Prim and I spend most of the day following district schedule, hand in hand throughout it all. I realize how much I've missed spending time with her since the first games came into the picture; and I also realize how much I hate district schedules. I didn't even know a curfew existed here until I was reading through the printed bullet point schedule on my skin. I'm anxious to go back to my compartment and wash it off... I don't like being told what to do, and especially not when exactly I need to do it.

. . . . . Curfew comes at last, and after taking Prim back to her hospital room, I head for the compartment, where I know Finnick will surely be waiting. The moment I unlock the door, I'm greeted by a thick scent that hits me like a slap to the cheek. It takes me a moment to fight it back, but when I do, I realize the smell is familiar, and it reminds me of the nightmarish event this morning. Finnick's cologne that I love so much, sadly makes me want to gag now.

I'm thankful to see that he's in the bathroom, and I can hear the shower running. The door is shut this time, which is another miracle in itself. What I don't understand, is why he would spray his cologne all over the room. It seems almost like he was purposely trying to remind me of today, in hopes that it may happen again.

Despite the fact how badly I want to stay up so I can take a shower after him, I decide to just turn in so that I won't have to talk to him when he gets out. I change out of my jump suit, into a long shirt that stretches down to my thighs. I think it was meant for Finnick to wear at night, but he's never worn it, and it's on my side of the top drawer. I climb into bed and pull the covers up over my head, not only to block out the light that's seeping through the bottom of the bathroom door, but to attempt to block out the reek of cologne as well… it doesn't exactly work.

. . . . . I discover how long Finnick's showers really are, because I'm tossing and turning for an hour without rest by the time he comes out. I pretend to be asleep until he turns the light off, and then squint my eyes to him hanging up his towel on the rack by the door. He turns his face towards me and I close my eyes again, because I'm really not in the mood to talk to him. He doesn't move for what seems like a long time after that, and an odd feeling creeps up on me like he's watching me. I refuse to open my eyes, until I feel his lips gently press up against my forehead in a goodnight kiss. My heart skips a beat, but I don't object it; I don't intend on letting him get away with it either. I pretend to wake up at his touch, and when I open my eyes, I find him sitting beside me. When he realizes I've woken up, he strokes my hair away from my face and gives me a gentle smile. "Hey Katniss." He whispers, and I simply can't hold back my grin.

"Hi." I respond, looking back and fourth between his sea green eyes in the darkness of the room.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to wake you."

"It's okay." I whisper, letting my eyes slide shut in exhaustion. I didn't even have to pretend this time. We're both quiet for a while.

"I shouldn't have done what I did earlier." He says finally, his tone full of regret to the point where curiosity tugs at my mind. "It wasn't fair of me."

"What wasn't fair of you?" I ask, opening my eyes again. He strokes at my cheek with the back of his fingers.

"I mean, I shouldn't have kissed you like that. Any confusion you already had,-" He struggles to say the next words, as if he had truly wounded me inside with that kiss. I'm still debating wether he really did or not. "-I probably just made so much worse."

"No, Fin." I whisper, sitting up a little bit in my spot. "You didn't-"

"You just lost your mother, and the boy you're in love with. I shouldn't try to just swoop in and ask you to feel anything again, because-"

"Finnick." I interrupt him, lifting my hand to touch his cheek. We stare at each other for a long moment, and I grin at him again. "You didn't do anything wrong."

"I have feelings for you, Katniss." He says, and I suddenly see the tears that are pooling in his eyes. I've never seen him cry before. "I really do." This tugs at my heart, and I stare back at him with a fading smile, desperately trying to prepare myself for what he might say next. "You make me feel like nobody ever has before, not even Annie." Annie… The crazy victor from District 4 that Mags volunteered for… I haven't even thought about her since the games ended…

"Why are you crying?" I ask, wishing I could pull it out of him faster. He's trying to tell me something.

"I'm-" He can't even begin his sentence before a tear is streaming down his face. I do my best to wipe it away, but another one replaces it seconds after. "I'm just… afraid."

"_Don't_ be."

"I-I'm afraid that you don't feel the same way as I do." He responds, almost interrupting me. "I'm afraid I'm just setting myself up to be hurt again, or that I might end up hurting_ you_ like I hurt_ Annie_." He lowers his face now, and that's when the sobs come. I feel helpless and unsure about how to react, so I do the first thing I can think of. I sit up, touching his arm and pulling him to me. He buries his face in my lap in the most defenceless position I've ever seen him in, and he just shatters like a glass doll there. I can't hold back my own tears now, as I stroke his hair and try to put the pieces together again.

"Finnick, please…" I sob, lowering my body over him until my face is resting on his bare back. "S-stop crying…" It hurts. It hurts more than I ever could have imagined to see him cry. I never thought that he could break, and I realize now that his usual personality is the wall he builds up every single day… and the saddest part about it all, is that he reminds me of _me_. He's just as broken as I am, and we've both become people we aren't. It's like we're locked up in our own little inner prisons, and we're both just trying to figure out a way to escape.

It isn't long before I'm able to get him to look up at me again, and I wipe all the tears away from his red and puffy cheeks. I don't know of any words that I could use to comfort him, and I feel just as defenceless as he probably does. I figure I'll end up regretting this all over again, but I beckon for him to lay down with me. He's hesitant at first, but soon we're wrapped up in each other's arms, shielded by the warm blankets around us. I kiss him, letting my eyes sink as we lay there together. The moment we part, as we stare into each other's eyes one last time, I whisper, "You don't need to be afraid."


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter 9 ; "Ruins Of District 12"  
**. . . . . With Finnick's protective grip around my waist, I feel secure as I'm pulled out of my slumber by his soft murmuring in my ear. His breath is warm on my neck. "Good morning." He whispers. Too lazy to reply verbally, I turn my head and plant a gentle kiss on his lips. He seems a little surprised by this, probably because most nights when I act like I did last night, I usually snap right back out of it by the time morning rolls around; but certainly not this time. He doesn't deny my kiss, and even props himself up on his elbow a bit so that he can take his usual dominance in it. That's one thing about Finnick's kisses that I will always appreciate more than Peeta's. Peeta is so gentle, so respectful, but so timid. I was always the dominant one who had to protect him... but with Finnick, it doesn't feel that way at all. It's nice to be on the other side of the relationship, because I feel _safer_ with him than I ever have with anyone else.

When our lips finally take a break from each other, Finnick uses his free hand to stroke my hair back. "You're pretty," He grins, and I give him an odd look. "even just after waking up." I can't help but smile at this, cause it's such a cliche thing to say.

"You don't look too bad yourself." Who am I kidding, he's always gorgeous, no matter what he does. His warm hand touches my cheek, and he kisses me again. I sink back onto the pillow and take in a breath of utter bliss. He parts a little too soon for my taste this time, and gets up, leaving the bed cold next to me. A part of me wants to beg him not to get up so soon, because frankly, I wouldn't mind laying here with him all day long. It's kinda gross of me.

As Finnick takes another one of his signature long showers, I lazily toss and turn in bed as if I'm expecting to be able to sleep again. I can't stop thinking about Prim, and how I'll have to move out of my compartment soon so I can stay with her. I'm excited, as I should be; but it also hurts to think that Finnick won't be as close by anymore when I need him the most. A week ago, I was dreading the fact that I'd have to bunk with him... now, I can't imagine anything different. I can only hope his compartment will at least be on the same floor as me and Prim's.

. . . . . A beeping wakes me from my thoughts a few minutes after I hear the shower turn off on the other side of the wall. Steam and light is escaping through the bottom of the door when I pull myself from my bed. The tablet on the wall is once again, summoning for me and Finnick to go down to headquarters. It's probably going to be an update about the captive victors, which makes me shaky inside like a baby's rattle. I slip into my jumpsuit, and seconds later, Finnick comes out wearing his. His hair is still wet, his face partially red from the steamy water. I try to ignore the fact that I'm strangely more attracted to him right now than I ever have been before, as I pull my boots on. We go out the compartment doors together, rushing to the elevator since we're probably already late to our call.

We go through another rather uncomfortable pat down, and for some reason, I'm more embarrassed than ever this time. It's odd, really, how actually having a thing with Finnick makes me want to please him all the more... Did I really just say I had a thing with _Finnick_? I'm suddenly a little bit more grossed out by myself.

The long hallway through the headquarter doors seems longer than before, as we swiftly rush to our seats at the long mahogany table. The finish of the table reminds me of Effie, and I begin to think about what Finnick said yesterday morning. Before he kissed me, when he was listing off all the things I had caused, he said that Effie and my prep team had to be rescued... The thought is suddenly puzzling me, but I push it aside, wondering if maybe he had made it up, or I had been hearing things.

. . . . . "Hello, Katniss." President Coin gives my hand a good shake, as if we were nothing more than strangers meeting for the first time. Her aged face looks as if it has grown in age even more so than before, with stress and lack of sleep. I guess she really wasn't kidding when she said she wouldn't rest until she knew if the captives were alive or not. I can only hope she'll have news that'll bring sleep back into her life. "Before I get down to anything else, I should let you know that in two days time, we'll have a master compartment ready for you and your sister Primrose." She smiles, and I feel my heart grow a bit achy. I didn't know it would be so soon. "But, in the mean time..." She looks down the table and makes a bit of saddened eye contact with Haymitch. Haymitch merely nods, and a bit of nervousness rises in my throat. The first thing that comes to my mind, is Peeta. He has got to be alive. Please tell me he's alive.

"We've arranged for you, Haymitch, Gale, and Finnick to take a visit to District 12 overnight. We figured it would be a way to open up the doors for the new rebellion advertisements," I'm a little startled by this, because I never thought I'd ever go to District 12 again. I understand that they would like me to see the ruins, but stay overnight there? It just seems kinda sketchy... "perhaps we could show the people the suffering of seeing you returning to your old home. I know it's a lot to ask of you, but we ask it for our best intentions." The idea strikes me in a funny way, but for some odd reason, it's compelling.

"I'll do it." I nod, and she looks a bit surprised that I agreed so fast.

"Katniss," Under the table, Finnick gets a good squeeze of my hand. I turn my eyes to him, catching his foamy sea green eyes in mine. "are you sure?" I can see the worry he has, and it suddenly worries me too. Seeing District 12 may break me more than I've already been broken, especially at the thought of how my mother's remains would be there somewhere... but I simply can't push the thought away.

"Of course." I nod, looking down the table to make eye contact with both Haymitch and Gale. They both look just as unsure as I probably do.

. . . . . The rest of the meeting consists of talking about strategies and commandments, without a single word of the captives. It isn't long before we're sent up to our rooms to gather any things we may need. If the District 12 Victor's Village is still standing, even in the slightest, I'm sure I'll have everything I could possibly need inside the ruins of my home. The one place that I truly need to visit though, is the forest. I miss my forest, with the rocky spot on the top of the hill where Gale and I would hide amongst the berry bushes and talk all the crap we wanted about Panem. I loved that spot, and the view it held over the field, and the long winding road that would only be used for the transport of peacekeepers. Every thought I have about that forest brings a sort of happiness to my heart. I can't wait to see it again.

Finnick and I wrestle around each other at the dresser, pulling out things we'll need for our journey and changing in the midst of it all. By the time we're finished, we've both packed two days worth of warm clothing, and are fully dressed in attire that only the district's would wear. I'm in a pair of grayish skinny jeans, knee high brown lace up boots, and a long loose tan sweater. It's nothing fancy, but I'm thankful to be out of District 13 attire. On my shoulder, I'm carrying a gray messenger with a small _'13' _printed on the flap corner.

"You ready?" Finnick asks, stepping into the bathroom behind me. We look at each other through the reflection of the mirror as I make an attempt to rebraid my hair. He gets me all side tracked when he wraps his arms around my waist from behind, planting small kisses up and down my cheek.

"Finnick," I laugh, giving him a little elbow to push him away, but he comes right back. "Finnick, we're gonna be late, stop!" I command again, unable to possibly hold back the grin on my face. Eventually he gives in with the kissing, but he keeps his arms locked around me.

. . . . . The moment the trap door opens up into the forest above District 13, it takes every bit of self control not to throw myself into a tree and hug it until my arms feel numb. The air is thin compared to the stuff we get down there, and it's unbelievable how fresh it really tastes. If I could run off and spend the day in the forest right there, I would do it in a heart beat; but I'm met with a couple soldiers escorting me up the stairs into the hovercraft meant to take us to District 12. They seal up the doors, and the thick air rushes back into my airways with great disappointment. Sadly enough, I doubt the air in District 12 will be as fresh as what I just experienced. It got bombed last week, after all. I doubt the smoke has even fully cleared out yet.

Finnick and I are greeted with Haymitch and Gale when we reach the main sitting area. District 13 must only have one high class hovercraft, because I can tell it's the same one that was used to fish us out of the arena; based on the folded up mats by the back wall. Finnick and I take a seat in the familiar chairs in which tributes sit in on the way to the arena, and not one of us says a single word all the way there.


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter 10 ; "Home Sweet Home"  
**. . . . . The ground puffs up dust the very moment my boots hit the ground at the bottom of the hovercraft stairs. The barren and abandoned place around us is desperately trying to dispel smoke from the chunks of buildings left behind. I can barely take in anything around us at the very thought that these are the streets I grew up in. I can't recognize anything, only able to see burnt wood and crumbled stone. The whole district around us is filled with the aroma of smoke, blood, and terror that had only recently filled this place. I can't make out where in the district we are, even with the alignment of the hills and the paved stone under our boots. "Where are we?" The words scatter from my lips as if they were trying to escape from me.

"The Town Square." Haymitch says, his eyes looking glazed over as if the sights didn't effect him at all. Now I see it, the designed stone pavement, and the pillars of the Justice Building that are chipped and shaved away. The buildings around it have nothing but foundations left to them, and scattered wood amongst the ground around them. The Mellark's bakery, just to the left of the Town Square looks as if it had never existed at all. The homes just to the right, the prettiest houses in the district that I passed every single day on the way home from school, gone. It feels for a moment like we're there, in the bombing that did this. Complete horror and fear is taking over my body, and I have to force myself not to cripple into a ball; instead, I place my hands loosely over my lips, refusing to let the tears come into my eyes.

. . . . . The Seam is an entirely different story from the Town Square. Rather than bits and pieces of the buildings left, there's absolutely nothing but scraps of metal and burnt items around. I can see the spot where my home used to lay before I won the Hunger Games, and feel lucky that I had gotten my family away from there a whole year before this happened. I crouch by the chunks of wood, rummaging through it as if hoping to find something we left behind. There's nothing, except a broken chair underneath the rubble. The home after that has items scattered throughout it's rubble. I still remember the family that lived there, since I used to play with their son at a young age. A few old and shattered picture frames, lots of broken glass, and a rusty fork sit right out in the open. I can't imagine what else is buried in there.

The timeless walk up the hill towards the broken down electric fence seems much longer than when I traveled it before. Burnt patches of grass here, crumbles of burnt wood there. The only thing missing was a dead body, which we came across not long after that. Her face was to the ground, the back of her leg torn up like it had been sliced by metal. Burn marks are scattered amongst her bare arms, her strawberry blonde hair, and pretty blue evening gown drenched in her blood. My mind is suddenly racing. Gale is staring at her too, and the very thought that comes to both of our minds reflect to each other like ricochet. This girl was no stranger, to either of us. This girl, is Madge Undersee.

I can see the hurt drowning in Gale's eyes, staring down at the pretty girl like it had been him instead. I realize that this isn't his first time seeing her dead, because rather than shock, his face is full of _regret_. A regret so deep, it makes me feel as if my insides might collapse on me. "Gale," my tongue twists up, coming out as more of a sob than anything else. He doesn't say a word. We're alone up here, since Haymitch and Finnick went towards the Victor's Village, so all is silent around us. Not even the birds are chirping out here. It's as if the air is made of death itself. "Gale?" I say again, but he stays quiet for a long time more, making me wonder if he has stopped breathing.

"It's my fault." He finally chokes out, and my heart drops into my stomach at the sound of his voice. It's broken, and struggling to form the words. I can hardly take seeing him this way, but I don't know what to say. "It's my fault that she's dead." His eyes won't move from their spot. "I couldn't get her out fast enough."

"It wasn't your fault Gale-"

"But it was." He interrupts me in a way that softens my heart even more. His eyes finally trail up to mine, and thats when I see the tear streaming down his pale cheek. The sky is grey around us, only adding to the hurt we both feel so deeply. "She was dying, a-and I tried to get her to the forest, but I-" He interrupts himself with his own sob, as he buries his eyes into his palms and sinks there. He falls until he's squatting on his toes, suddenly shattering into a million pieces. I have no idea how to fix it; how to fix _him_. "she didn't make it... S-she died in my arms, and I just left her here..." He won't look up. "How could I do that to her?"

"You couldn't have done anything else, you can't beat yourself up for trying to save her." I move closer to him, and put my hand to his shoulder, but he moves away too quickly for my comfort to reach him. "Gale, please stop crying." I beg, kneeling beside him. I don't try to touch him again, because I'm afraid I might break him even more. He doesn't say anything in return, so for some reason, I just sit there and let him suffer.

. . . . . The atmosphere is much different than I expected it would be at the top of our hill. The view over the forest doesn't seem as magical, or as peaceful as it once did to me. The place I ran off to in order to get rid of my chains, is the same place that is locking me up all over again. I feel a heaviness grow in my chest that I have never felt before, and the true sadness is setting in on me. This isn't my home anymore, and it never will be again. It will never feel the same way as it did, and my body aches at the thought. Everything is gloomy and cold. Not even Gale's company could bring me the comfort I needed in order to break away from my thoughts; maybe not even _Finnick's_.

Gale sits moping at my side, his face still stone cold and aged with tears. We're sitting so close together, that our shoulders are pressed against one another. We can hear each other's breath, but neither of us says a word. It must just be instinct for us to do that when we're both afraid. It's the same instinct we had before the reaping just a year ago, and before I went into the Quarter Quell. I still don't understand why we do it, especially since it never seems to help me. I can only hope it helps him.

. . . . . Gale and I are silent during the entire walk back towards the Victor's Village. We can see all the way from the top of the hill how polished and untouched it really is, so it will undoubtably turn out to be our venue for sleep tonight. It's hard to know wether I'm excited, or utterly devastated to have to walk through my home again. The memories it holds, and the thought of why I was rewarded with it makes it seem like less of a treasure to me now. It was once a place where I could keep my family safe, but now it merely serves as a reminder of the fact that I took lives away in order to get it. It isn't a reward anymore, it's a _burden_.

We go to Haymitch's house first, where we find him and Finnick standing like ghosts in the middle of the rug. There are liquor bottles all over the room, just as Haymitch had left it. There's some glass broken on the floor below the table, but other than that, it seems as if it hadn't been touched by the explosions. Perhaps the broken glass hadn't been a victim of the explosion at all, and just a victim of my drunken mentor's stupor.

"Katniss," Finnick says, walking to my side the moment he sees my pale and teary eyed face. He wraps me in his arms, but I can't feel the comfort I expected the embrace to bring. "are you okay?" He asks, and I nod to reassure him. I try to smile, but it comes out as fake as a fake smile can get.

"I'm fine." I stutter out, when I realize how bad my acting was. I adjust my bag on my shoulder, before turning towards the front door again that sits entirely ajar from our entry. "Where are you going?"

"To my house." I reply, sealing the door shut behind me.

. . . . . I feel a chill creep up my spine as I walk towards the big vacant home that once belonged to me. The door opens with that familiar creek, and my breath snags at the sight. On the coat rack hangs my hunting jacket, next to it a jacket that belongs to my mother. I freeze in this stature, staring at the coat as if it was made of snakes. My hand is suddenly exploring the fabric of her coat, finally pursuing to take it off the rack and press it to my nose. The scent brings another wrack of chills on my body, and I put it back in a quick movement of fear.

I continue through the house, my boots gently scuffing the rough wood floors with each movement. The kitchen sits still, with no sound to be heard other than my own breath. The counter where my mother treated her patients was dressed in a bowl of medical supplies, a small bag filled with bandages spilled on the floor as if she had been rushing to get out of the district; which she was.

I make my way up the stairs carefully, as if the floor boards would snap underneath my feet. The hallway is just as still as the kitchen was, but with the window opened at the end of it. The small lace trimmed curtains blow softly in the breeze, and yet another shocking chill encases my body. That's when I smell it, the obnoxious fragrance that tickles my nose in the presence of my biggest opponent. The man that came to my home, ordering me to be careful for the sake of my family's lives. And there it sat, on my bedroom night stand through the door to my left; a single white rose.


	11. Chapter 11

**Chapter 11 ; "White Roses"  
**. . . . . The white rose on my night stand seems to dart it's presence into my soul like a dagger, and I find myself unable to pull away from our stare down. The thing about the it that scares me the most, is that the rose looks untouched, flawless even. Its as if it had only just been clipped from it's bush, and placed in the vase just before I got here. Perhaps it was. Perhaps I'm being watched; or we're _all_ being watched. Perhaps this is why President Snow left the Victor's Village standing. He wanted to torture me, even if he couldn't do it in person.

. . . . . There beside the rose lays a small white card in which I can see had some sort of writing on, but I'm far too afraid to see what it is. Taking a step closer to the nightstand, I can partially make out the silver seal of Panem printed on the top of the card. Underneath, silver writing, in the signature font of the Hunger Games; but not even being a tribute in the Hunger Games could prepare me for what's written on the card.

_'Are you, are you, coming to the tree?_  
_Where they strung up a man they say murdered three._  
_Strange things did happen here, no stranger would it be_  
_if we met up at midnight, in the hanging tree.'_

The moment the last word reaches my eyes, I drop the card, letting it float its way down to the floor at my boots. I struggle to breath, and a vision floods into my mind in a horrific symphony. A tall and dusty man with a small dark haired child in his lap, a silent forest surrounding them. A pair of black birds in the trees above them, a beautiful voice floating amongst the crisp air, and the song in which spoke of a dead man. The vision is all too real, and all too fresh in my mind; but it isn't much of a vision at all... it's a memory.

. . . . . A scratchy and low growling noise is what brings me back into reality, as if I'm being pulled out of a nightmare by Finnick's comforting hands. I'm somewhat frightened to find that I'm still in District 12, a part of me wishing I really had woken up back in District 13. I look around for what may have caused the noise, only to find the house just as empty as when I zoned out. I start to make my way towards the dresser, when the noise comes again. With a swift turn, I look around the room in fright until I've backed myself up against a wall. That's when I see it, a pair of green eyes peeking out at me from under the bed. I'm greeted by another long hiss, before it shows off it's golden colored paws while trying to swat it's claws at me. "Buttercup?" I gasp, and the cat lets out another long hiss. Somehow, this brings a smile onto my face.

Buttercup is my sister's little demon of a cat. She took him in as a kitten, when she found him astray on the side of the road when we were younger. Only Prim could love a creature as pathetic and angry as him. I knew they had left him behind, and knowing he likes to stay around the Seam, I thought he might have been blown to pieces with everything else there; but he must have luckily been around the Victor's Village when the bombings started. He looks plump and well fed, even though he's never hunted anything but bugs in his entire life. I can hardly believe how healthy he really looks.

I take a step closer, and he hisses again. I carefully lower my hand towards him, and after he takes a gentle sniff, he surprisingly lets me stroke his dusty fur. Before now, the only time he ever touched me is when he was clawing at my ankles. I sit there on the floor with him for longer than it's probably necessary, just stroking him and listening to him purr. I've never gotten him to purr before. Until now, he's always hated me, and I've always hated him... it seems like we're just on common ground at this point... maybe we're more alike than I thought.

. . . . . Before I leave my house, I manage to collect my old game bag, my father's jacket, a few of Prim's fanciest hair ribbons, and Buttercup. Buttercup sits contently in my game bag, his head hanging out over the open flap. I'm determined to sneak him back into District 13, no matter how much it takes. Prim needs him, and frankly, I think I do too.

I find Haymitch, Gale, and Finnick together on the porch of Haymitch's old home. Haymitch is drinking up an old bottle of liquor, and Gale and Finnick seem to be staring off into space. All three of them look beaten up from the sights, and I begin to wonder if I look the same way. I probably do, but not that it really matters. Finnick stands at the sight of me, hugging me like nothing is wrong, despite the fact that there's a cat head hanging out of my bag. "Hey," he says in his gentle voice. I don't try to hold back a smile, even though the rest of me seems lost in my own thoughts. He plants a modest kiss on my head, but I can't help but peer straight past him to Gale. He looks broken, even more broken than he did when he saw Madge. It hurts me somewhere deep down inside, to see the boy who gave me so much joy, needing so much comfort for himself. Not because I love him, but because I care for him.

. . . . . It's sunset before we know it, and we're instructed through Haymitch's ear piece that we should head into one of the homes for safety. They say something about wild animals after dark, since the broken down fence is more broken than it was before; but I know it's because they don't want the Capitol patrol to see us roaming the street. We go into Haymitch's home, mostly because I'm too frightened by my own, and Peeta's would only give me more nightmares than I need. Gale makes an attempt to ignite the brick fireplace, and Finnick and I clear the dusty couches of liquor bottles so that we actually have a decent place to rest. We all agree to stay together in the living room, because separating into the bedrooms upstairs wouldn't be safe incase of an emergency. I would personally enjoy to be alone, or at least alone with Finnick, but I know that it's best.

Haymitch slunks down into the corner of the longest couch, letting the velvet of the chair encase him. He has a fresh bottle in his hand, and I can already see the distance in his hazel brown eyes. He's getting drunk to get away from this district, and usually I would argue with him, but it sounds like a good idea to me too. He's sinking away into another world, and for a moment, I almost envy him. The moment of decision in my mind reminds me of the day that the Quarter Quell was announced. I drank with Haymitch until I could barely navigate my way to my home, which was just across the street. I somehow ended up in the forest instead, and I stayed there. I stayed there until the drunkenness came up out of my numbed body again.

My moment of decision right then comes to an end, and I snatch the bottle from him. He makes an odd growling noise, and goes to take it back, but I move away too quickly. I'm about to take a swig of it, when Finnick catches my arm. Somehow I make almost the same noise as Haymitch, despite the fact that the alcohol hasn't even touched my tongue yet. I try to yank it back, but he manages to pull it away from my reach. "Katniss, we don't need two of you being intoxicated." I wrestle with him for a moment, and then roll my eyes and sink into the opposite side of the couch from Haymitch. After a moment of sulking there, it begins to set in, how depressed I truly am. The aching for alcohol to pull me away, the shivers that have been holding me captive, and the fact that I can't stop feeling sorry for myself. It's pathetic, and for a moment, I'm convinced that I hate myself. How Finnick sees any good in me, I have no idea... how Peeta does? It's beyond my _intelligence_. How could anyone love someone as selfish as I am?

. . . . . I can feel Finnick's soft breath on the back of my neck, as I lay awake in the middle of the night. The half moon is the only dim amount of light peering in through the window, and almost the entire room is dark. The furry blanket feels itchy on my skin, and the sweat on my forehead feels cold and eerie. I can hear Haymitch half snoring on the opposite side of the room, finally knocked out from all the alcohol. I can see Gale on the floor across from us, another fur blanket draped over him... everyone else is asleep, but I can tell he isn't. I lay there for a moment, wondering wether I should see if he's okay or not. By the time I can crawl out from under Finnick's embrace, he's maneuvered up into a sitting position with his back toward me. I crawl across the rug, and sit beside him, hugging my knees to my chest. For a long time, we just sit there in silence. We don't look to each other, or even acknowledge each other's presence... but somehow, it's almost like we're comforting each other all the more. Everything is so quiet, that I can hear my own heart beating... or perhaps it's his. I listen to Gale's breath, and he listens to mine.

I finally part my lips, taking in a long breath before resurrecting the dead silence. "What's your favorite color?" I whisper, and I watch as a smile curves onto his lips. Peeta once asked me the same question, because he wanted to get to know me better. I know Gale like the back of my hand in so many ways, but I realize now that I don't even know his favorite color. He looks at me like it had been a joke, and I begin to smile too. It's hard not to.

"What kind of a question is that?" He whispers back, and I lift an eyebrow.

"A valid one, now answer it." He scoffs a little bit, and sits silent for a moment. Our eyes return to their original spots, away from each other's, just staring into the darkness like it was entertaining. Finally, I hear him take in a breath.

"Gray." He says, and I make an odd face.

"That's boring." I chuckle.

"Yeah, definitely not as exciting as green." I pause for a moment, moving my eyes back up to stare at him.

"How do you know that?"

"Know what?"

"My favorite color."

"I do my homework." He winks, and I smile again. "It's not like we're best friends, or anything." We both chuckle for a second, before the silence comes back. This time it's longer, and even quieter than the one before. My mind doesn't race, for the first time in longer than normal. For once, I don't feel like I need to panic about something, despite our circumstances.

"What else do you know about me?" I ask.

"A lot of things." He looks down at his hands, which are fumbling at each other in his lap. "You're stubborn, and don't listen to anything that anyone says for starters. You're also pretty obnoxious."

"Gee, thanks." I rumble.

"I'm not done." He smiles. "You're also talented, and unlike a lot of people, you actually care."

"Care?" I ask.

"Yeah, about your family, and about their well being. About me, about Peeta and Finnick. Even about Haymitch, when it comes down to it." I begin to shake my head, but he places a finger on my jawline, forcing me to look into his eyes. "I admire how brave you are. You've risked everything for us." I can feel my face going hot, and I can't take my gaze away from him. We both begin to smile at each other, and I settle into his embrace. It feels good, to know that people can see the good in me... because I can't, and I'm not sure I'll ever be able to.

* * *

**Author's note;  
**Sorry guys, for the super long delay on this chapter! I've been writing bits of it every single day since chapter 10 came out, and I really wanted to make it perfect. Chapters should be coming out more frequently!  



	12. Chapter 12

**Chapter 12 ; "Fatal Territory"  
**. . . . . I wake up to the soft sound of birds chirping outside the open window of Haymitch's home. The sun is shining today, and the entire world smells of fresh air, and life. It's quite a difference from yesterday, in which seemed so deathly and quiet. I was doubting that birds would ever sing in this place again, but they were sitting right there, as if bringing a light of hope into our hearts about the whole revolution. I don't know if I need any hope, because even now, I'm unsure of what I think about it. All I believe, is what I've been told to believe about the Capitol. It feels as if my own opinions are trapped inside a box somewhere, that I'll never be able to open. Maybe that's the way I need to keep it.

I turn over onto my back, expecting to push my way back into Gale's embrace where I fell asleep last night, but I find that there's nothing but a cold rug beside me. I wipe at my eyes, pushing myself upright. I smooth my hair back, taking a glance around the room through groggy eyes, to find that Gale isn't the only one missing. Finnick is missing from the couch, and Haymitch isn't anywhere to be seen with his big glass bottle of alcohol. Even Buttercup can't be found in the game bag just by my feet. For a second, I'm tempted to panic, but I hear voices out on the porch. I'm about to get up and go to them, but after listening a moment longer, realize that none of the voices belong to the boys I came here with. "Gale?" I say quietly, staring at the front door in a bit of horror. "Finnick?" I then ask, a bit louder. The voices go quiet, and I see a silhouette through the curtains. My heart simply stops, and I regret saying anything at all. The scuffing of boots on the rough wood porch jerks me into flight mode, and my mind is screaming at my body to run, but I'm frozen there like a deer in headlights. My limbs simply won't move, and I stand there, staring at the door as it suddenly creaks open with a loud jolt.

Thats when I see him, a blonde boy with blue eyes, clearly afraid for his life. The moment he lays his eyes on me, it all disappears, and I see the happiness and relief shine through him like fireworks. "Katniss," He says, and I can barely contain the tears of joy that suddenly come out of the abyss.

"Peeta?" I choke.

"Katniss..." He says again, and just the sound of his voice brings me even further into my sobs. He wanders a few steps closer, and it takes less than a second for me to be in his arms. His strong grip gets a hold of me, and I burst into tears like I never have before in my life. I sob onto his shoulder, squeezing him as tight as my arms will allow. I can hardly breath, because the tears are burning my throat and stinging my eyes, but I'm too overtaken with joy to care. "Katniss... Katniss..." He keeps repeating my name, as if he'd lose me if I didn't. My Peeta is here now, and suddenly there is no doubt in my mind that everything is going to be okay. All that matters is that he's alive, and that we're together again. _Everything is going to be okay_.

. . . . . "Katniss!" I gasp, suddenly choking on my own breath as the entire world spins out around me. I hit the floor with a thud, and I'm suddenly in what seems like an alternate universe. The sky outside is gray, and there isn't a bird to be seen or heard. I'm staring into a pair of sea green eyes, and out of nowhere, the tears hit me like a hurricane. "Katniss," he says, and I bury my face into my hands. I suffer through the breathless tears, and it seems like an eternity before I'm wrapped up in Finnick's arms. It wasn't real, none of it was real. I could have sworn I was holding Peeta, but now he's gone. It was all a dream. And what scares me now, more than a nightmare ever could, is what if he never comes back again? "It's okay." Finnick hushes me, and I bawl into his chest like a defenseless child. "Katniss, please, it's okay."

"Peeta," I sob, and Finnick rocks me back and fourth.

"It's okay, you're okay..." He whispers. "I'm here, everything is fine."

"N-no," the word slurs into my sob. "he was here!"

"He's okay, Katniss, alright?" He assures me again. "He's going to be alright."

"He's n-not here!" I cry again, and he just rocks me again, hushing me, and stroking at my sweaty face. "He's not okay..."

. . . . . The ride back to District 13 is long and quiet, the four of us not saying a word to each other all the way there. My eyes still sting from my breakdown this morning, and I'm just thankful that Finnick was the only one in the house when it happened. The dream won't get out of my head, and my mind is racing with paranoia and questions. I'm starting to realize now, that I'd rather find out that Peeta is dead. It'd be better for all of us, including him. He wouldn't have to suffer anymore, and maybe I could move on... but the truth is, I don't know if I'd ever be able to.

I pull my father's jacket close to me, closing my eyes and inhaling the scent of the old brown leather. My game bag sits tight in the seat by my side, with Buttercup surely secured on the inside of the flap. Nobody on the hovercraft has noticed him yet, so I'm hoping to be able to get him into the district without any problems. As long as he stays still and quiet, it should work out fine... but you can't really count on that cat for anything.

. . . . . Stepping into my new compartment for the first time, I look around in a bit of awe at my surroundings. Unlike the tiny one that Finnick and I were crammed into, this one has a nice seating area when you first walk in, two separate decently sized bedrooms, and a bathroom in between. I'm a bit surprised, because this is the closest thing to luxury that District 13 probably has. I don't like luxury as much as I used to, because it reminds me too much of the Capitol; but I suppose it'll have to do. I secure the front door shut tight, before releasing Buttercup from my game bag. He hops out and stretches his back out, his tail flickering around with curiosity as he takes a look around. I watch him for a minute, expecting him to scout out the entire place. Instead, he just makes himself at home on the couch A smile comes onto my face, despite the events of today, being able to think about how Prim will react to seeing Buttercup. A mix of happiness, tears, and surprise. I can just imagine her squeezing him half to death the moment she lays eyes on him. I take a step closer, and lean down to pet him. He gives me a bit of a hiss, but then accepts it after a moment of giving me a death glare. Even this is better than it used to be.

I'm startled when I hear a pair of keys in the lock of the door. I'm about to shove a pillow on Buttercup and attempt to sit on him, but then I realize that Prim would be the only one with a key to my compartment. I sit in front of him, blocking his view from the door. "Hey Prim!" I smile, as she pushes the door open. She looks even more healthy than she did, her cheeks full of color that she didn't have just a few days ago. Her hair is silky and loose on her shoulders. She's also wearing one of the pitiful gray jumpsuits. I suppose being half dead gave her an excuse to wear comfortable and decent looking clothes around the district; but now that she's well, she'll obviously be held up to the same standards as the rest of us are. Its a pity too, because she looks awfully pretty in her signature sundresses.

"Hey! How was your trip?" She asks, shutting the door again behind her. She tosses her keys onto the coffee table, and moves at me for a hug. I manage to stand and block her view of Buttercup before she gets too close.

"Honestly, pitiful." I murmur, as she embraces me. She even feels stronger. "But I have a surpr-"

"Buttercup!?" She suddenly gasps, seeing the ragged cat on the couch behind me over my shoulder. Before I can even see her reaction, she's on the floor with the cat wrapped up her arms. "Buttercup!" She cries, her eyes suddenly filling with tears. She could hardly believe her eyes. I could hardly believe _mine_. The joy in her faces manages to bring joy to mine, and I feel more thankful than ever to have this stupid cat.

. . . . . A knock on the door makes me jump only seconds after Prim and Buttercup got reunited. I scoop Buttercup up from her arms instantly, and practically throw him into one of the bedrooms, before saying "sorry," and locking him in. I walk to the front door and open it, expecting to see Gale or Finnick, but instead I come face to face with Haymitch. "Haymitch," I half grin. "can I help you?"

"We have to be at headquarters." He announces, with breath that still reeks of liquor. I glance back towards Prim, who sits now empty-handed on the rug.

"But I just got here, I was just-"

"Now."


	13. Chapter 13

**Chapter 13; "Undignified"  
**. . . . . We barely make it a foot out of the compartment before being pelted with the presence of District 13's most important members. I barely have time to lace up my boots when President Coin and Plutarch Heavensbe in full uniform are suddenly standing before us, both looking somewhat determined. I can almost make out a ray of pride in their eyes. "Katniss, Haymitch, please come with us." Coin said, and I suddenly feel a mass of butterflies take off in my stomach. I'm unsure for a moment what to think. We step into the elevator just across from my compartment doors, and Plutarch hits the button that takes us down to the hospital. My ears have popped (as usual) by the time we reach our stop. Haymitch looks nervous, and I definitely feel nerves too, although I refuse to show them. What if they have the victors? What if they have _Peeta_?

. . . . . The entire floor is in a bustle. Doctors in uniforms are rushing back and fourth through the main entrance, and there is no one to greet us at the desk. Coin leads us down the most crowded hallway, and my stomach feels like it may concave on itself. Prim had stayed in one of the rooms near the end of this hall, but it's never felt so long to walk. The door at the very end is where we're lead, and I see a rather bloody and mangled woman laying there on a stretcher. She's so fresh, that she hasn't even been transferred to the readied bed yet; or perhaps she isn't strong enough. She has poorly chopped blonde hair thats just as messy as the rest of her, and her face makes her seem around middle aged. "Torture victim." Plutarch says. She's connected to an array of machines, and she's almost completely stripped to her bare skin. The only thing that remains on her body is tattered white cloth tied around her breasts, in which must have been the remainder of her torture attire. She looks as if her dignity had been taken from her, and as if all her pride has been lost... perhaps even her hope is diminished. Two people are tending to her wounds, which look like whip gashes and different types of cuts that were clearly made by a blade. The skin of her feet look bubbled and burnt, as if they had been being soaked by acid or even flames at some point. If she has anything to do with us, then I don't doubt that thats what happened. Torture can get pretty intense, which suddenly worries me about Peeta even further. If a rescued girl who I don't even know is this bad, I can't imagine how bad Peeta will be when we get him back..._ if_ we get him back.

Her swollen eyes look distant, lifeless even. I can see her struggling to get a grasp on her soul, because it's slipping further and further away with every weak breath she takes in. She's clinging to life, and for a moment, I begin to feel pity for her. "Let go." I whisper in a sort of plea, praying that she'll just let herself die. It would be better. She wouldn't have to suffer anymore, and I wouldn't have to watch her. "Just let go." I whisper again, and I feel a cold hand on the back of my neck.

"We're doing everything we can to keep her stable." Plutarch says, and I turn briefly to find that he's the one trying to comfort me. I fight the urge to brush him away, because I know he has good intentions. I just can't stop looking at him in the way I looked at Seneca Crane... a murderer. I'm unsure I'll ever be able to find comfort in him.

"Why don't you just let her die?" I ask.

"Because I know that Haymitch would never stand for it." He says, and I made an odd face.

"Why?" I demand, and thats when Haymitch finally walks in behind us.

. . . . . The hurt and complete devastation that crosses his face is what brings me further into oblivion than I was before. I've never seen Haymitch cry before, but he's suddenly on the verge of tears, as if his own life was slipping away instead. I looked back to the girl, who is suddenly fighting back a violent cough that the nurses try to comprehend. Blood is suddenly running down her dying lips, and tears are running down Haymitch's stone cold cheeks. I watch as he takes a few steps towards her. He stares at her as if this whole thing was a nightmare, and I begin to wonder why he cared so much. Why did he care for this women? Why was he crying for her of all people?

He dropped to his knees by the stretcher, keeling over her body before shattering. He shattered, worse than Gale did in District 12, worse than Finnick did in bed that one night, and worse than Prim did when she saw how broken I was. He was bawling so hard into her neck that I couldn't even see the Haymitch I knew anymore. He was a child, weak and defenseless, as if his entire world had just collapsed. Thats when the curiosity hit me... who is this woman?

My boots gently scuff the tile floor as I attempt to make my way closer. One of the nurses partially blocks my way, but I manage to get close enough that I can take a good look at the woman's face. She has sharp cheek bones and big plump lips that are shredded up, her eyes bluer than the clearest of skies. Despite the distance in those eyes, I manage to make out the little ray of sunshine that she always carries around with her. She's still clinging onto life, and I can suddenly see the hope in her eyes that moments before I thought may have been gone. The traces of pale pink skin dye frame her face, and I finally see her in all her glory. Effie Trinket.

. . . . . There are four other rooms that are packed with medics, surrounding four different faces that have been sealed with the same fate. Three of them belonging to tacky Capitol residents, one of them belonging to a face that is all too familiar. I'm disappointed to know that none of them are Peeta, but the familiar face is the closest thing to him. She's the first one I visit after I leave Effie's room. Her tanned skin and long black hair are the first key points that I see, but I can undeniably make out the jagged white shapes just inside her parted lips. Her eyes are closed, and her nostrils are intruded with heavily breathing tubes. She has bandages all over, but despite the fact that she was one of the remaining victors, she isn't in as rough shape as the others. She isn't conscious, but I can see the strength she holds in comparison to everyone else. "Enobaria." I say, which arouses her from her rest. She blinks against the harsh lighting of the room, and after a weak moment of getting a hold of reality, she locks onto my eye contact. The one medic tending to her glances between the two of us, and then walks out to give us privacy. It's not like we need any, but in a way, I sorta appreciate that he left.

"Katniss Everdeen," Enobaria manages to smile with her jagged shark-like teeth. She partially attempts to sit up, but then winces in pain. "I had a feeling I'd be seeing you soon enough." For some reason, I don't look at her like I did in the arena. Before, she was nothing but a useless career who had her eyes on my blood. Now, after knowing that this was Plutarch's plan all along, I look at her as more of an ally than anything else.

"Here I am." I murmur, crossing my arms and hunching my shoulders up for a moment as I take in a deep breath.

"How's the rebellion treating 'ya?" She asks rather casually, as if she hasn't been being tortured for the past two weeks.

"I haven't really decided yet." I bite into my lip, staring at her for a long moment. "I'm... I'm sorry that this-"

"Eh!" She barks, interrupting me. "No pity, please, I've had enough of that." She pushes a bit of a frown onto her lips. "I don't need any pity, especially not from you. I've had enough pain in my life to know that physical abuse can't hurt me... not in the way that mental abuse can." I let her words sink in for a moment. I've never really thought about it in that way.

"Sorry," I say, and she shoots me another look. I clear my throat. "Um, sorry." I say again, before managing to shut myself up. This amuses her in a way, and she laughs. I laugh for a moment too, and then realize that I haven't laughed since the games... at least not really.

After a while of silence between us, Enobaria finally speaks up. "You're probably wondering about Peeta, huh?" She asks, and my eyes suddenly trace back to hers and become eager. She gives me a brief nod of reassurance, but I'm unsure wether it should bring me any relief or not. "He's alive." I let out a breath I didn't realize I had been holding. "He's not well, but he's alive as far as I know."

. . . . . The last three people I only visit briefly. Plutarch introduces them as Flavius, Octavia, and Venia; my prep team from both the games. It definitely brings pain to see them, so innocent and blinded by the games, to be in a state such as this. They wouldn't have known what violence was if it bit them in the face, yet here they are. They're all washed away of their fancy colors and makeup, just like Effie, although most of them look just healthy enough that they'll live. Effie on the other hand, it's hard to tell. None of them were responsive like Enobaria, but I could tell that they were going to be okay, and not just because the medics told me so.

. . . . . When I finally come out of the last room, I head straight for Plutarch who is standing sorta near Effie's room. I can see Haymitch still crouched beside Effie, clearly still trying to help her grasp onto her life. "How did you manage to get them out?" I ask, and he merely shakes his head for moment. He looks as if he won't respond, so I decide to change my question to a demand. "Why didn't you get the other's?"

"It's not that easy." He says, and I narrow my eyes a bit.

"You shouldn't have pulled back the rescue team, you could have brought them back too."

"No, it wasn't a possibility. If it was within our capability, we wouldn't have pulled them back, but we had no choice." I stare at him for a minute, shaking my head. He continues to explain after I refuse to open my mouth again. "These five people were the only ones we could manage. Enobaria and your prep team were locked up in the lowest amount of security that the Capitol had for their captives. Effie and the others were in maximum security, and by the time we got Effie, we had to pull back for the safety of our troops."

"Is that why you sent us to District 12? Because you didn't want me or any of the others to demand anything that you couldn't handle?"

"That's part of the reason, yes." A bit of rage is bubbling inside of me, and I want to hate him all over again. The fact that Peeta, nor Brutus or Johanna were his main priorities, I don't understand.

"Peeta should have been the first one you went for." I growl. "Coin promised that she was going to make sure he was safe."

"We did what we could, Katniss!"

"Well it wasn't enough."


	14. Chapter 14

**Chapter 14 ; "Commitments"  
**. . . . . Today is the anniversary of the arena explosion. Exactly a month ago today, I shot an arrow into the arena's forcefield, in which brought down the entire Capitol's network. It's the anniversary of our rebellion's birth, and it's the anniversary of the day that I went mad. It also just so happens to be the day that the rescued captives are announced as stable. Both my prep team and Effie have to stay put in the hospital for quite a bit longer. Haymitch has barely left Effie's side since she arrived, and I haven't had a chance to see how she's doing. According to the medics, she's responsive, and often talks to Haymitch when she isn't resting. Little by little, she's been getting stronger, but I'm unsure if she'll ever be the same. As for my prep team, they all seem to be recovering quite well. I'm surprised that they haven't already been putting on their signature makeup. Part of me hopes that they'll just stay natural though, because they look good without all the hair extensions and artificial skin colors. They could _almost_ pass as normal.

Enobaria on the other hand is already stable enough to leave the hospital and start her life in District 13. She's determined to be an important member in the rebellion, and they've already decided to let her into headquarter meetings, so that she'll have just as much of a say as I do in what goes on. She's been moved into Finnick's compartment, since he has an empty bedroom. Not going to lie, I sorta envy her for that, but I know that Finnick despises her. I have nothing to worry about.

. . . . . I go down to the cafeteria with Enobaria at my side. We've become sorta close in an odd way, despite the fact that we were trying to kill each other less than a month ago. It's kind of like how Buttercup and I randomly bonded out of nowhere... it's not so much that we like each other, more that we've just found something that we have in common. Between Enobaria and I, we're both suffering over the fact that the boys from our districts could be dead. For her, she's worrying about Brutus. For me, it's Peeta... but at least when she goes to sleep at night, she can assure herself that Brutus is strong. For me, I don't have that sort of comfort... I'm not sure if Peeta _is_ strong enough for what he may be going through.

We get in line and have our schedules for the day printed on our arms. Like me, Enobaria doesn't have any intentions to follow it. Instead, we get our rations of breakfast for the morning and head straight to the armory with it. Just a week ago, I was granted permission to leave District 13 in order to hunt in the forest above. Our agreement, is that I can use their weapons as long as I'm willing to turn in all the game I catch to the kitchen. To be honest, it's not much of a fair trade, but its worth it to me. Usually I would go up there with Gale, but today he has to begin training for who knows what.

. . . . . Enobaria and I retrieve me and Gale's bows for hunting, allow ourselves to have the usual tracker bracelets locked around our wrists, and then finally head to the elevator. The fresh air feels cold on my skin when we step out of the vault, but more refreshing than ever. I love the feel of the breeze after being locked underground for so many days at a time. Its rather gloomy, and looks as if it may rain, which would be fantastic. We head for the electric fence thats much like the one in District 12, ducking under it and then finally letting our guard down and just letting loose like we had planned. We're pretty much as safe as we can get with the security and weapons that District 13 has, but it's not like the Capitol doesn't know where we're located. We're required to stay down until we get out of the district boundaries, and then after that, as long as we have our bracelets on and don't stray too far, we're practically free.

After a while of wandering, we find a place by the river where we can settle down and just enjoy the nature around us. An overturned log serves as a seat, and we just take time to listen to the breeze and the birds chirping over head. "Do you think there'd be Mockingjays out here?" She asks, and I glance up into the trees. "I've never seen one before... Ever since your games, I've been wanting to experience them for myself..."

"I don't know, go ahead and try." I suggest, and she gives me an odd look. "Sing." I explain. She sits kinda awkwardly for a moment as I watch her in anticipation. Soon, she purses her lips and sings a familiar four notes that I know all too well. Her voice sounds a little too much like Rue's, and for a moment, I feel shaky inside. Her voice is quickly greeted by the chirping of a single Mockingjay in the tree directly above us. Another one chirps off in the distance, followed by another, until the entire forest is alive with Rue's song. I suddenly taste metal, and realize that I've been biting straight through my tongue. Before I can attempt to contain myself, I let out a hoarse gasp. I can see her in my head, Rue's lifeless face, so clearly that it makes me want to vomit. "Make it stop!" I yelp, and Enobaria looks bewildered. I cup my hands over my ears, but the noise only intensifies. "Stop!" I cry again, and I practically fall too my knees off the log and try to drown out the world around me. It doesn't work.

In a quick movement, she stands me up and begins to pull me back towards the district. The forest won't quiet down, and I'm starting to feel as if I'm there again. I see Rue get impaled right before my arrow goes piercing into Marvel's throat. I can barely contain my screams of complete horror as my friend tries to get me away from the thing that's haunting me. Even when she locks us up again in the district vault, I can still hear the song... only this time, it's only my imagination. "Katniss!" She exclaims, as I let out another scream. "Katniss!" She cries again, grabbing a hold of my shoulders and shaking me violently until I seem to wake up. The tears are flowing in waterfalls, and I grasp onto her for dear life. She holds me even tighter, and I just sit there and cry until I finally manage to calm myself down. I realize now that the side effects of being a victor aren't getting any better for me. They're getting worse.

. . . . . That evening, after being summoned to headquarters, I take my seat at the long table for a meeting that looks like it's going to be a serious one. Coin stands in her spot, and Finnick takes a seat between her and I. I see Enobaria walk in and take her new spot, followed by a group of both men and women who are officials that I've never actually met. I don't expect to see Haymitch in the meeting, but he surprisingly shows up, but not by himself. He's holding the hand of the mangled blonde women that I haven't seen outside of the hospital, who looks as if she's lost within her own mind. Effie isn't as colorful as she used to be, and again I'm hit with the unsure feeling of if she'll ever be that way again. They take their seats next to each other, and it isn't much longer before the meeting begins.

"As you all know, just a week and a half ago, we were able to rescue and deliver five captives to the safety of our district." President Coin begins, glancing around the room until she's made eye contact with everyone at the table. The silence is long and eerie before she speaks up again. "And as you also may know, there are three more captives awaiting their rescue in the Capitol. Brutus, Johanna Mason, and Peeta Mellark." A few people mumble back and fourth as Coin takes another long pause. Her sharply structured face looks even more aged than it did during our meeting about going to District 12. It's scary how much a war can change someone, both physically and mentally. "After many hours of research and development for our second and final rescue mission, we have come to an agreement that sending a team would just be far too dangerous to pursue." I can feel my heart sinking straight into my stomach, and for moment, I expect to wake up from another nightmare... but I'm already awake. "Therefore, we have decided to discontinue the effort to retrieve the missing victors. By the time we reach them, they could very well be beyond repair. The loss of rebels would be much greater than the gain." I listen intently, even though my mind is racing with ways to fix this. I see the hurt registering on Enobaria's face across the room, and I try to grasp for a solution. _Say something, you can't just let them give up_. "It's hard to give up on something we've worked for so many hours on, but the rebellion itself is much more important than a few torture victims. I'd say we've accomplished rescuing enough of them, and-"

"Wait!" I cry, and I feel myself standing before I can even process what I'm about to do in my head. All eyes turn to me, and I find myself at a loss for words. "W-we can't just..." I begin, but my voice fades. Everyone is silent, and I look around with wide eyes, unsure of what I can possibly say to convince them otherwise.

"What were you saying, Miss Everdeen?" Coin finally asks, and my eyes move to her.

"I..." I swallow hard, and then look around again. "We can't just... give up... N-not now, not when they need us most." I glance around, looking for support from someone, _anyone_. Thats when Enobaria stands as well.

"I agree. We can't give up, not when there are people out there who are on our side, that are being tortured because of us." She says. We both look around for more takers, and thats when Finnick stands up next to me. He nods, and thats when both Gale and Haymitch rise too. Nobody says a word for quite some time, as we watch Plutarch and Coin exchange a long and silent look.

Finally, Coin opens her mouth. "Very well, the efforts will go on." I expect to be happy for a moment, but there's still a chance that they'll never come back to us even now. "But you simply cannot expect me to send Boggs with another team, especially after he almost lost his life to save the captives we have." We look around the table for Boggs, one of the generals, but he isn't anywhere to be seen. "If someone would like to go ahead and volunteer to lead the team, then we will do our best to prepare one." Everyone is silent, and almost all of our faces get crossed with fear. We look around at each other, all praying in our hearts that someone would speak up. None of us are nearly qualified to lead a rescue team into the Capitol, which is the scariest part about it. Nobody speaks up. "Nobody?" She asks, clearing her throat. "Well then it's settled, the mission will now be clos-"

"I volunteer." My head spins around just in time to see Gale stand from his seat. My throat suddenly becomes jagged, and my heart seems to drop even further into the pit of my stomach. _Not Gale, please not Gale, anyone but Gale_. I look around, praying that someone else would volunteer over him... but nobody did.

"Very well, Gale Hawthorne shall be leading the rescue team... Would anyone else like to join?" Momentarily, Enobaria stands.

"I do." I shoot her a look, and she gives the look right back to me.

"I do too." Haymitch stands, and Effie looks bewildered beside him.

"So do I." Finnick stands, which brings a deep gasp into my throat. I lose all terms of self control, and before I know it, I stand and announce in a loud and clear voice.

"I volunteer."


End file.
